


With Every Beat of My Heart

by eyeslikeonyx



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Teenagers, High School, M/M, Mpreg, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Teen Pregnancy, The Losers Club Are Good Friends (IT), Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikeonyx/pseuds/eyeslikeonyx
Summary: “It’s gonna be you and me, together,” Richie had promised one night when they were sixteen and sharing a six-pack of beer by the cliffs. “We’re gonna leave Derry in the fucking dust and make something of ourselves. I can’t wait ‘til we fucking graduate and get the fuck outta this town. We’re gonna do it. I know we will.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 58
Kudos: 88





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is my first fic that I've ever written for this fandom. Despite my bone deep phobia of clowns, my ass got dragged into this fandom. I was not planning on this being the first fic I published for the IT fandom, but things just happen that way.
> 
> If you're not into mpreg, then PLEASE turn away. I know mpreg can be triggering for some, and that's completely understandable and ok. So please take care of yourself and do not read this if it triggers or squicks you in any way.
> 
> The Losers are all 17/18 years old and seniors in high school, but I still tagged this as "Underage" since they are, in fact, still in high school. There's no explicit sex scenes in this story at all, but it's implied (obviously) that Richie and Eddie are together and regularly have sex. Just a reminder so that we’re all on the same page.
> 
> Thank you so much to Cherry for being my beta, and thank you to Barbie for cheering me on, even when I had my biggest doubts.
> 
> If you feel like I missed any tags or warnings, please let me know! I hope y'all end up loving this story as much as I do!
> 
> Title comes from "I Swear" by All-4-One.

Eddie knows now, as a senior in high school with a little more knowledge and wisdom under his belt, that if he doesn’t feel so great, he shouldn’t overreact right away. A small cough or a sneeze doesn’t mean he’s coming down with the flu; having to catch his breath isn’t immediately a sign of an asthma attack or a panic attack. Throwing up is not the same as dying. A headache isn’t automatically associated with a brain tumor.

He’s had to train himself out of overanalyzing his symptoms and to stop going to the library to look up what life-threatening disease he might have this time. But he’ll give himself credit: he’s gotten a lot better at it, and he’s gotten a lot of help from the other Losers, too. They’ve all been extra supportive in keeping him from quietly descending into madness. They know at least some of the shit he has to deal with at home and how terrified he is at the thought of turning into his mother. They’ve never explicitly talked to him about it. It’s a sensitive subject and one that Eddie never wants to talk to anyone about.

No one except Richie. But Richie has always been the exception to the rule in pretty much every aspect of Eddie’s life.

Richie knows all of Eddie’s weirdest quirks that even their closest friends have no clue about. He knows all of Eddie’s deepest fears and desires, his hopes and his dreams for the future. Richie loves to joke around a lot, but he also knows when Eddie’s at a point where he needs to take what’s bothering him seriously. Richie is the best at getting him out of his own head and reminding him that he’s nothing like his mom; that he’s going to go far in life and that he’s not limited to this tiny town.

“And it’s gonna be you and me, together,” Richie had promised one night when they were sixteen and sharing a six-pack of beer by the cliffs. “We’re gonna leave Derry in the fucking dust and make something of ourselves. I can’t wait ‘til we fucking graduate and get the fuck outta this town. We’re gonna do it. I know we will.”

Eddie had believed him that night and he has believed him all the other times he’s brought up since then. And with graduation coming soon, that hopeful dream is so close to becoming a reality. They already know they want to go to New York. Eddie got his acceptance letter from NYU just a couple weeks ago, and Richie is currently waiting on his letter. Richie already knows he wants to be an actor, but Eddie is still trying to figure out what he’s actually wanting to do for a living. He’s been thinking of career options, but so far, he’s stuck. He’s got a few choices to look into, and he knows he really needs to get on the ball with making a final decision before the fall semester starts next year.

Except he’s been too busy puking in the public library’s bathroom to really do anything related to school or his future. Which, ok, how inconvenient.

He had been studying for his literature test with the other Losers when he suddenly felt so nauseous that he had to run to the bathroom as fast as he could. Normally, he avoids all public bathrooms like the plague, but this is a high priority emergency. He doesn’t really throw up a lot, and when he does, he makes sure his mother doesn’t find out or else she’ll go fucking berserk and make him go to the doctor (again). Most of the time, though, he gets sick once and then he’s good to go. He doesn’t normally throw up at least three times in a day. This kind of shit doesn’t happen to him. He knows that he’s most likely overreacting, but he’s tired of throwing up everything he eats and being snappy because he feels so sick.

He could also really go for some sleep right about now. There’s nothing he can really do when he has a stomach bug. He just has to let it run its course. He flushes the toilet with his sneaker clad foot and walks out of the stall to wash his hands. He gasps and stumbles back when he sees Stan leaning against the counter, watching him with a raised brow.

“You good, dude?” he asks. Eddie awkwardly clears his throat.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he murmurs. He goes to the sink and splashes some cold water on his face. He cups some water into his hands and slurps it into his mouth. He swishes around the tap water—which, ew, he’s going to have to use mouthwash twice when he gets home—to get the rest of the vomit left over in his mouth before spitting that out into the sink and finally washing his hands.

“You sure you’re not coming down with something? You like, never throw up like that.”

“Might just be a bug. I’m about to head out so I don’t get the rest of you guys sick.” Stan makes a small noise that catches Eddie’s attention. “Look, I’m sure it’s nothing. Everyone gets stomach viruses. I just—I don’t wanna overthink it.”

Stan still has this concerned look on his face, which, considering he always looks annoyed at the world, is not normal for him. Most of the time, he either looks annoyed at the world or like he needs to take a nap. He has other emotions, too, but concern is not one Eddie has personally seen, and definitely not directed at him.

“All right,” Stan finally says. “Say bye to Richie first or he’ll be all pissy and annoying the rest of the night.”

“He’s always pissy and annoying.”

“Yeah, but it gets worse when you’re not around.” Eddie sighs because yeah. He knows. He’s heard the stories.

“See you tomorrow, Stan.”

“Don’t come to school if you’re still sick.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but bumps fists with Stan before quickly washing his hands again. That gets a sigh from Stan, but he still waits for Eddie to finish. They walk out of the bathroom and back over to the group in the back corner of the library. Richie is watching him with big, concerned eyes that look even bigger behind his high prescription glasses. Eddie comes up to the group and tells them that he’s too sick to keep going and he needs to go home, which gets some sympathetic nods and a couple “hope you feel better”s.

“You need me to drive you home?” Richie asks. He’s still got that concerned look in his eyes, and Eddie can feel his heart skip a beat or two. He would actually love having Richie drive him home, but he doesn’t want to risk his mother seeing them together this late at night.

“It’s ok,” Eddie insists. “I’ll just walk back.”

“It’s fucking cold outside.”

“I’ll be fine. My house isn’t far from here, anyway.”

Richie doesn’t look happy with the idea of Eddie walking home by himself, but he finally sighs.

“At least let me walk you outside.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“I can be nice sometimes.”

 _You’re nice all the time,_ Eddie thinks to himself. Richie gives Eddie a discreet kiss on the cheek after looking around and making sure no one else can see and says that he’ll see him tomorrow.

“Love you, Rich,” Eddie whispers when Richie hugs him.

“Love you, too, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves at Richie’s shoulder.

“Fuck you, I hate it when you call me that.”

“Ooh, what time and when?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose before playfully punching Richie’s shoulder and walking in the direction of his house.

“Baby, c’mon! Don’t leave me hanging!”

“Goodbye, Richard!”

Eddie’s mother is thankfully asleep when Eddie makes it home. He really doesn’t need a lecture from her on how even being outside in the dropping temperatures for just a few minutes will make him too sick to function. And he definitely doesn’t need her to give him shit for being out so late on a school night. All she’ll do is bitch about how Richie and the rest of Eddie’s friends are terrible influences and are probably crawling with diseases and how she should’ve just homeschooled him and blah, blah, blah.

Eddie definitely knows that Richie doesn’t have any diseases that could kill him. They wouldn’t be having sex if he knew Richie had something that could get him sick. Of course, sex has been a very recent development in their relationship, and Eddie is still trying to get used to the whole physical intimacy thing. But so far, he’s loving it so much more than he thought he would. He loves not having to feel so uptight about everything when Richie is holding him close and kissing away all of his worries.

Eddie wishes they could both feel free all the time. He can’t wait for the day where they can just live their lives and be able to be themselves, just like everyone else. Richie is still terrified of coming out, and Eddie can’t really blame him for it. He’s not ready to come out himself, either, especially while they’re still living here in Derry. Eddie knows things won’t be like it is here when they finally get to New York. It’s different in the big cities: not nearly as invasive and a whole lot more inclusive. They’ll definitely wait a while before actually coming out—if they ever get to that point—but at least they’ll have a place to call their own where they’re free to be themselves around each other.

He goes to bed after he finishes his full night time routine and “takes his medicine”—which means flushing everything he doesn’t need anymore (and probably never needed in the first place) down the toilet—before crawling into bed and finally trying to get some sleep. He doesn’t feel sick or nauseous anymore, so he’s sure it’s just the stress of getting ready for semester finals getting the best of him.

But he can’t shake the nagging thought in the back of his mind that maybe there’s actually something wrong with him; that something isn’t right. He rests his hand against his stomach, brushes his thumb over it, thinking. But he stops his mind in its tracks and bundles himself further under the blankets before finally focusing on letting everything go blank so he can finally get some rest.

His mind doesn’t go totally blank, but he does let his mind drive all of its focus onto Richie, and that’s enough to help him calm down and finally fall asleep.

Eddie is not a morning person. Not even close.

But this week, waking up and actually trying to get out of bed is so much harder than usual. He feels like he could sleep for the next three years. He knows he needs to get up and go to school so that he can get his study guide for his psychology exam, but he really just wants to call Bev and ask her to run the study guide by him after school so he can sleep.

“Eddie bear! You need to wake up and take your medicine!”

Nevermind. Suffer through school, it is.

Eddie sits up in his bed a little too fast and he swears he thinks the room is spinning. He flops back down into his bed and stares up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath.

What the fuck just happened? He’s never gotten dizzy like that.

Ok. Maybe something is wrong with him. But he’s not going to let his mother catch on to that. Absolutely not. He’ll just figure it out when he gets out of the house. He starts getting ready for school and lets his mother give him the “medicine” for him to take. He swallows it down while she watches and breathes a sigh of relief when she finally leaves his room. He knows he should eat something, but he’s afraid he’ll just throw it back up in an hour, like he’s done the last few days. He grabs an apple on his way out the door like he always does and is relieved to hears a familiar car horn go off in his driveway.

Richie’s car is out front waiting for him, and Eddie’s heart leaps when he sees Richie’s stupid grin on his face through the windshield. Eddie can’t resist smiling back, even as he turns to tell his mother goodbye.

“Bye, Mom!”

“Don’t forget to come home right after school,” Sonia calls when Eddie is already out the door. Eddie stops right in front of the car and turns to face his mother.

“I’m going over to Ben’s after school to study. We already talked about this.” That’s only partially the truth. They’re all heading to the clubhouse when they get out of school, but if his mom ever knew about the clubhouse, she would flip shit and call to have it destroyed.

Sonia frowns.

“I want you home right when you get out of school. Your doctor prescribed you a new medicine for that rash you’ve been having.” Eddie resists rolling his eyes. He’s already got that rash almost cleared up thanks to some ointment he secretly bought from the pharmacy a few days ago. Sonia is still trying to convince him that he’s allergic to grass.

“You coming to pick me up, then? Because I won’t have a ride home until later tonight.” Normally, Sonia drives everywhere, but she’s been weird about driving places lately, and she refuses to let Eddie drive. He has his license and everything, but she’s adamant about checking to see if her son has driven either car anywhere. So when Sonia stays quiet, Eddie shrugs like he’s just made his point. “I’ll be home before nine.”

“I sure hope so, or you’re grounded for all of Christmas break.”

Eddie slowly blinks once and tries to keep a straight face. He bites his tongue and finally gets in the car. Richie smirks at Eddie and starts pulling out of the driveway when Eddie is buckled in.

“Wanna see me scare the shit out of your mom?” Richie asks. Eddie knows exactly what Richie is about to do, so he makes sure to have a good grip on his seat before nodding.

“Do it.”

Richie cheers and spins his car around before quickly speeding down Eddie’s street. Eddie swears he can hear his mother screaming, _“Drive slower! You’re going to get my baby hurt!”_ She doesn’t understand that Eddie feels safer in the car with Richie than he does almost anywhere else, even when Richie is driving like a fucking lunatic.

Eddie turns the music all the way up right as Richie is tearing around the corner and onto the next block. He lets the sound of Lenny Kravitz drown out their shouts of delight as they fly down the road like they just robbed a bank. When they get to the stop sign at the end of the next street, Richie glances around before leaning over the console and bringing Eddie in for a kiss. Richie’s mouth tastes like peppermint mouthwash and strawberry Pop Tarts, and Eddie loves it. Loves Richie. When they pull away, Richie is gently brushing his thumb against Eddie’s cheek.

“Morning,” he whispers.

“Morning to you, too,” Eddie greets back before bringing Richie in for another kiss. They know they have to keep moving so they won’t be late for school, even if Eddie wishes they could just skip school and go hide out in the clubhouse for the day.

“You feeling any better?” Richie asks when they’re almost to school. Eddie swallows down the bite of his apple.

“Yeah. I think whatever I ate yesterday is what made me sick.”

Richie doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t say whatever he’s thinking.

“Just let me know if you start feeling bad again.”

Eddie nods and takes another bite from his apple. He blushes when he feels a peck to his cheek just before he and Richie are pulling into the school parking lot.

The morning passes by pretty uneventfully, all things considered. Eddie doesn’t get sick from the apple, so he counts that as a win. And his psychology study guide doesn’t look so bad, so he’s sure he’ll pass with flying colors. He and the other Losers sneak off campus to go eat lunch together since they have the same lunch period. Even Mike has time to come join them, which is always a bonus. Eddie’s feeling a little overconfident about finishing off the apple, so he decides to try his luck with a burger from the local diner.

He should’ve known better.

He’s sick when he gets back to school—can he please get sick somewhere that’s _not_ a public bathroom?—and his head is hurting on top of that. He has no idea why this is happening, but he’s getting really fucking tired of not being able to eat anything and keep it down. He’s getting anxious and trying to come up with every logical explanation he can think of to figure out why he’s so sick. The one thing that’s got him stumped is that he only feels bad right before he gets sick, and then after he throws up, he’s fine. And he’ll stay fine until he eats something else his stomach doesn’t agree with. It doesn’t line up with a stomach virus or really any other kind of sickness he’s heard of.

He starts to think that maybe this is more than just some stomach issues when he’s sitting in Literature class and watching _Hamlet_ play on the television screen in the classroom, and he’s actually starting to tear up. He doesn’t even realize it until Ben looks at him worriedly and whispers, “Dude, are you crying?”

Eddie quickly wipes away the very few stray tears on his cheeks and shakes his head.

“Got something in my eye, I think,” he murmurs back in reply. Ben looks skeptical, but he doesn’t say anything more. Although Eddie is grateful, he’s worried that other people saw him burst into tears over a terrible rendition of a Shakespeare classic, and it’s got him even more anxious than before.

He discreetly pulls out his inhaler and takes a puff so he can calm the fuck down. Whatever it is that’s wrong with him will go away. Eventually.

He hopes.

It all finally comes to a head when the whole group is at the clubhouse later that evening to study. The guys are all doing some kind of experiment outside while Bev and Eddie are staying inside where it’s warm. Eddie is studying his history notes so intently that Bev has to clap her hands in front of his face to catch his attention. He startles as he looks up at her, and he’s actually a little nervous when he sees how annoyed she looks. He’s never had that look directed at him before. Usually, it’s reserved for either Richie or Stan.

“Sorry,” Eddie says. “I was—”

“You ate all my Oreos.”

Eddie stares at her, bewildered.

“I hate Oreos. Why the fuck would I eat your Oreos?” Bev gives him a look before pointing at the empty package of double stuffed Oreos sitting by the hammock. Eddie’s fingers are covered in Oreo cookie crumbs, and now he can actually taste the chocolate on his tongue. Did he seriously zone out so fucking hard that he ate a bunch of fucking Oreos without even realizing it? And _Bev’s_ Oreos on top of that? Bev isn’t one to get pissy about many things, but her Oreos are sacred. Even Richie doesn’t try to fuck with her about her Oreos. He tried it once when they were fourteen, but one time was enough. He got the memo pretty quickly after that.

Eddie tries to stutter out an apology, but Bev raises her hand to signal him to shut up. His mouth clicks shut, and Bev shoves him over so that she can crawl into the hammock with him.

“Look,” she says after taking a deep sigh, “I don’t give a shit about the Oreos. Honestly, I’m just happy you’re able to eat something and hold it down. You’ve been eating those all afternoon and haven’t gotten out of the hammock once.”

Eddie hadn’t even noticed.

“You’re not acting like yourself,” Bev continues, “You’ve been moody and overly emotional—”

“Did Ben really fucking tell you about the _Hamlet_ thing today?”

“Not the point.”

“That fucker.”

“My point—if you would listen to me for once—is that something is up with you. I know you’re trying not to diagnose yourself and go to the doctor or anything, and I get it. But I think this is one of those times where maybe you should listen to your instincts and get checked out.”

“But what if it’s just nerves from finals and sending in scholarship letters and housing applications? Then I’ll look like the crazy hypochondriac again, and no one will take me seriously. I’ve already made a list of all the symptoms so far, anyway, and nothing is adding up.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs and moves all of his studying material to the floor except for his notebook and his pen. He and Bev arrange themselves so they’re looking at each other from opposite sides of the hammock. They’re a little cramped, but they make it work.

He flips to the page that has a chart with all of his symptoms. He explains the ones he’s had so far since he really started keeping track. He goes through them one by one along with the ones that he should most likely be having but hasn’t experienced yet. No fever or aches anywhere on his body, no constant nausea—only when he eats something that apparently isn’t apples or Oreos—no diarrhea, nothing of the sort. So he has to rule out stomach viruses and lactose intolerance and a whole host of stuff he can think of off the top of his head. He even has a list of everything he could have and crossed out the stuff he knows he definitely doesn’t have.

“And then I had a dizzy spell this morning, so that didn’t fucking help,” he continues, but he knows he’s almost done. “And now I can really only eat apples and Oreos, of all the fucking things. Like, what the fuck is up with that?”

Bev doesn’t say anything for a few long moments, and Eddie is starting to think that maybe she’s thinking he’s fucking crazy. Which, he probably is and wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up going so insane that he got institutionalized one day. But right now he knows, deep in his gut, that he’s not imagining any of this. Something has changed, and he doesn’t know what it is. And it’s fucking scary.

“So this might be a little personal,” Bev finally says, all slow and careful, “and I wouldn’t be asking you this if I really didn’t think it was a possibility. But uh—Eddie? Do you think you might be pregnant?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at her. What the fuck? There’s no men in his family with the carrier gene—that he knows of, anyway—and he knows that being a carrier all has to do with genetics. He read about it. He’s definitely not pregnant. He can’t be.

“No,” he replies. “There’s no way I’m pregnant. I’m not even a carrier, and I’m pretty sure I would know if I was one. And I’m not even gay, so—”

Bev levels him with a look that has Eddie trailing off.

“I’m a lot smarter than you give me credit for,” she says. “I didn't want to say anything because I figured you would just deny it, but—” She hesitates and takes a long breath. “I know about you and Richie.”

Eddie’s face pales, fear coursing through him.

“You— _what?_ No, you got it all wrong. Richie and I aren’t—”

“Eddie, listen, it’s not a problem if you and Richie are together. Not to me or the others. We’ve all kind of suspected for a while, but we wanted you guys to come to us and tell us when you were ready. And like, we just want you guys to be happy. We still love you, no matter what.”

Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing. Bev knows? She’s always suspected? The other guys have always suspected too? And—and they’re ok with it? Maybe it’s just because he’s feeling overwhelmed and exhausted and his hormones are possibly out of whack as well, but hearing that is enough to bring hot tears to Eddie’s eyes. Bev smiles sadly at him and opens her arms as an offering for a hug. Eddie sniffles and gladly lets himself be hugged by Bev.

“You’re not just bullshitting me, right?” Eddie croaks a few minutes later. “Because that’s super fucking shitty of you if you are.”

“Definitely not bullshitting you,” she laughs wetly. She sounds like she’s crying herself, and Eddie is quick to pull away and wipe away her tears with the edge of his sleeve. Bev does the same for him with her fingertips. It’s nice to not be so serious for a few minutes, and it feels even better that Bev is still his friend, even after learning the truth about him and Richie. Bev has always been the least judgmental of the group. Not to say that the others are judgmental, because they’re definitely not, but besides Richie, Bev has always been the easiest to confide in. She’s one of the greatest people Eddie has ever known. It makes him wish he would’ve told her the truth about him and Richie a lot sooner.

“Ok, so, since I officially know about you and Richie now, it’s time for full on honesty,” Bev finally says after she and Eddie have composed themselves. The guys still aren’t back from their stupid science project or whatever it is they’re yelling about outside, but Eddie is actually thankful for that now. He needs someone to talk about this with, and he’d rather not have the guys down here for this conversation. “Are you sure you’re not a carrier?”

“Yes,” Eddie says firmly. “I think I would know if I was able to have a baby or not.”

“Would you? What with all the medicine you’re still forced to take?”

“I don’t take a lot of it anymore. I started flushing a bunch of it down the toilet, like, last year.”

“Ok, but taking a lot of medicine like that can delay puberty. You know that, right?”

“Medicine doesn’t delay puberty that much.”

“I know you know a lot about medicine and medical conditions and the human body, and you probably know more than most people should. But that kind of stuff delays things more than you think. Even without all the medicine, development can still be delayed by several years just because of genetics alone. Not everyone hits puberty at the same time, and male carriers start developing later than most people, anyway.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Because I went on a research binge for an anatomy paper last year. Don’t deflect.”

“But I—I’ve seen my own medical charts. Wouldn’t it say if I was one?”

“Your doctor showed you your charts?”

Eddie almost says yes, his doctor has released his medical records to him and he’s read them himself. But he hasn’t. Not any that came directly from his doctor. He’s seen the ones his mother has gotten ahold of first then given to him to see when he’s asked. The last time he saw one of his medical charts, it was about three years ago, and he knows for a fact that he doesn’t have even a quarter of all the sicknesses that were listed on his chart. And he also knows his mother has lied to his pediatrician and told him that Eddie was so ill that he needed all of this medicine. Eddie knows that she lies all the time, so he knows there’s a good chance she could have lied about something like his carrier status.

His heart sinks.

“Eddie?” Bev asks gently. “You alive over there?” Eddie looks up at Bev, eyes comically wide and his stomach twisting into all kinds of vicious knots.

“I—” He doesn’t even know what to say or think. How can he confidently say that he is or isn’t a carrier if he knows that his own medical charts are so full of bullshit that it makes his head hurt just to figure out what he actually does and does not have? The charts he’s seen have always been directly from his mother—never his doctor.

“I don’t know, Bev,” he finally manages to say. “But if I am, then you’re thinking I’m—that means I might be—” Eddie can’t bring himself to say it. “You really think I’m—Bev, I can’t be. I can’t. Not because I don’t want kids one day, but—shit. Fuck. _Fuck.”_

Bev gives him a sympathetic look and takes his hand in hers. Normally, Eddie would want someone to ask before touching him, but it’s Bev. And he’s really thankful that she can figure out what he needs before he does. She’s good at that kind of thing.

“I know you’re scared,” she says, “but we don’t really know anything yet. Let’s just—take it one step at a time.”

Eddie nods because he knows Bev is right. The more he flips his shit about this, the worse he’s going to feel. He tries to take deep breaths but still reaches for his inhaler and takes a puff from it.

Thankfully, Eddie has calmed down by the time the rest of the guys come back inside. Bev squeezes his hand, a promise that they will talk more later. Whenever he’s ready. Eddie silently nods once at her, and he gets a small smile in return.

“You still owe me some Oreos,” Bev tells him.

Eddie laughs.

“I’ll buy you some this week.”


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this got better reception than I thought it would, if I'm being completely honest. I'm really thankful that y'all liked the first chapter, and I hope y'all end up enjoying the rest of the story as it progresses!
> 
> Some detailed warnings are at the end notes for this chapter. They do contain spoilers, so just a heads up.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome and appreciated!

Eddie goes to the library a couple days later while on his free period. He took the day before to process even just the idea of being a carrier before he could do anything else. He had gone straight home instead of heading over to Bill’s house to study and slept like the dead for ten hours. He didn’t realize how badly he needed that much sleep.

And now he’s here, standing in the health and wellness section of his school library, trying to find books on male carriers. There are no specific books on the subject, but there’s some general anatomy books from the 1970s that somewhat talk about it. He doesn’t normally look at old anatomy books because they’re really fucking outdated, but it’s a start. He hides out in a corner of the library and starts reading. Lately, he’s been taking a nap around this time of day, but he fights sleep because he needs to figure this shit out. He needs to know the truth.

There’s so much information in the book, it’s overwhelming. All the symptoms and anatomy pictures compare it to a woman's pregnancy, which is something he does know a little about. Still, he’s seriously wondering how the fuck he took health class and never really learned any of this.

He skims through the signs of puberty and development of the reproductive organs, trying to find reasons why Bev might be wrong. But everything he’s read so far is proving that she’s almost definitely right.

Eddie closes the book and puts it on the cart at the end of the aisle. If he reads any more of this book, he’s going to do something really fucking drastic. Like, jump out of a window, probably.

He walks around the school grounds for a while after that, letting the brisk wind pass over him and make him shiver. It probably isn’t smart for him to be outside while it’s this cold, especially since it’s supposed to start snowing that night, but the cold is ironically soothing. It gives him something to focus on that isn’t the fact that he could be a carrier or that he’s most likely—

He mentally shakes away the mental rabbit hole he was about to go down.

“Hey, Eddie!”

Eddie turns around to see who was calling his name and flashes a crooked grin when he sees Bev jogging towards him. She’s grinning back, but Eddie can tell that she looks a little worried as well.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Bev exclaims. “Where’s your coat?”

“Left it in my locker, I guess” Eddie replies with a shrug. “I, uh—I needed to come outside and think.” Bev gives him the same sympathetic look she had given him just the other night. She links her arm with his and spins him back around towards the entrance to the cafeteria.

“What did you find out?” she asks quietly. Eddie sighs deeply and waits for a group of freshmen to walk by before answering.

“A lot. Way too much. I think—” Eddie gulps. “Bev, I think you’re right.” He hates how his voice cracks, and Bev has enough sense to drag him away from the cafeteria doors and up to another entrance to the school. The less people can hear or see them, the better.

“So what’s next?” she asks. Eddie takes a shaky breath.

“Fuck, I don’t even know where to start. If I’m actually a carrier and I’m really—what you think I am right now?” He rubs his hands down his face. “I don’t fucking know what to do. I don’t have a plan for any of this. How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to the others? To my mother? Fuck, how am I gonna tell _Richie?”_

It’s really starting to hit him now that he has no idea what the fuck he’s going to do if he’s really—fuck, if he’s actually _pregnant._ Just thinking about it makes his heart pound and stars fly around his vision. 

He jumps when he feels a gentle hand grip at his bicep but sags when he realizes it’s just Bev. She’s still here, and she’s giving him this almost determined and fierce look that Eddie only ever sees when she’s got a plan and no one is going to stop her from going through with it.

“You need to take a test.”

“What? Like—like a—” Eddie glances around before looking down at her again. He can’t believe how much taller he is than her now. “Where the fuck am I gonna get a pregnancy test from?” He whispers. “That fucking creepy pharmacist will tell my mother what I bought the next time he sees her, and then I’m fucking toast.”

“I’m not going to make you go in and buy one yourself. Jesus, Eddie, I’m not that cruel.”

“Then how am I supposed to get one?”

“I’ll go in and get it.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“No. I’m not making you do that.”

“You’re not making me do shit. I want to.”

“People will talk so much shit if you go in there and buy a test. You already go through enough because of Greta and Bowers. I can’t let you.”

“You can always get Richie to buy you one, then. He’s your boyfriend, remember?”

“I can’t. I’m not ready to tell him.”

“Look, either you let me go in there and get a test, you go in there and get it yourself, or get someone else to do it. Either way, you need one. Or we can skip the rest of school today, hop in my car, and go get one from the next town over. That way, no one in Derry will know.”

“We can’t skip school.” Bev rolls her eyes.

“Then pick one of the other three options."

Eddie sighs as he looks around at the influx of students that are starting to walk outside. Eddie can’t believe he didn’t hear the bell ring. He looks at Bev again, and she still hasn’t lost that intense determination in her eyes. There’s no way he can stop her now that she’s this far into the plan. He runs a hand through his dark hair.

“You don’t even have to go with me,” Bev continues. “I can go by myself and then drop it off at your place. Or wherever you want me to put it. Either way, you need it, and you need it today.”

“No, I’ll go with you,” he quickly says. “I don’t want you to go alone. That’s not fair to you.”

Bev sighs and pulls Eddie in for a hug—which, ok, he definitely needs one of those right now. It’s been a rough and overwhelming day, and he’s fucking tired. He really should’ve taken that nap while he had the chance.

“Whatever happens,” Bev whispers, “it’s gonna be okay, Eddie. I promise.”

Despite how sick and terrified he feels, Eddie believes her.

Eddie is sunk low in his seat while Bev goes into the drugstore. He’s snacking on an apple and praying he doesn’t get sick off of one of the few things he can actually eat right now. His foot is tapping impatiently against the floorboard when he finally sees Bev coming out of the store with a plastic bag in hand. Eddie can see two full packs of Oreos, a water bottle, and two rectangular purple boxes peeking out of the top of the bag when Bev gets in the car. She hands him the bag and starts up the car.

“How much do I owe you?” Eddie asks.

“Don’t worry about it. Start drinking that water,” Bev murmurs before pulling out a small box of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. Eddie is so used to her smoking habit that he thinks it’s weird for her to suddenly go wide-eyed at the box and toss it into the backseat. “Fuck. I can’t smoke around you now.” Eddie is about to ask why when he remembers the reason they even went into the drugstore in the first place. He sighs.

“Bev, we don’t even know if I’m—we don’t know the results yet.”

“But if you are, then I don’t want to risk it.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Just let me be concerned about your wellbeing, damn it.”

“I'm glad you care. I do. But this could all be some big misunderstanding, and I’m just getting worried over nothing. I do it all the fucking time. This time won’t be any different.”

“Are you trying to convince me that or yourself that?”

Eddie doesn’t reply. He just takes another bite from his apple and chugs some of his water while Bev is starting up the car.

“Do you want me to be there?” she asks when they turn the corner down Eddie’s street. Eddie gulps when he sees his house come into view, and his hands start to shake.

“Can you sneak through the back window? If my mom sees you, she’ll freak.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t wear a skirt today.”

“You know where to park?”

“Duh.”

Eddie sneaks into the house and finds his mother asleep in her recliner, the television blasting _Jeopardy!_ through the house. Bev is waiting for him by the partially opened window, and she’s quick to climb in and toss him the test when she’s inside.

“I have a backup in case you wanted to take a second test,” she whispers. “Do you want me in there or—”

“Can you wait outside the door?” Eddie asks shyly. Bev gives him a soft smile.

“Yeah, whatever works for you.” Eddie swallows and nods. His hands are starting to shake, but he can’t chicken out now. He needs to just do it and get it over with. May God and every other deity that’s out there fucking help him.

It’s fucking weird to say the least, when Eddie has to have Bev quietly explain to him how to use the fucking thing, but she’s a great friend and doesn’t judge him for it. If it was any other Loser, he wouldn’t be able to hear the end of it.

He slips out of the bathroom and sits down on his mattress with Bev, taking deep breaths and trying not to reach for his inhaler. He didn’t even realize how badly his hands had been trembling until Bev took one of his hands into her own, resting their joined hands on her thigh. His leg starts to bounce in place as soon as his hands quit shaking. It’s like he can’t stay still. He’s so fucking anxious and terrified.

“Eddie, breathe,” Bev whispers. Eddie takes another deep breath, then another.

“How long do we have to wait for?” he finally asks.

“Just another five minutes, I think.”

“Fuck. Why does it take so fucking long?”

“It’s really not that long.”

“I just wanna know. I have to know. My entire future—my _life_ depends on this.”

Bev takes Eddie by the shoulders and pulls him into a tight, reassuring hug. Eddie doesn’t even hesitate when he hugs her back. He sniffles into her shoulder and holds tight.

“For what it’s worth?” Bev says so softly, Eddie probably wouldn’t hear her if they weren’t this close to each other. “If you are pregnant and you don’t want to keep it, you’ve got my back and the others in your corner too. We’ll help any way we can. And if you do want to keep it, I think you’d be a really awesome dad.”

Eddie smiles despite himself. Hearing that eases some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Thanks, Bev. I really needed to hear that.”

“I’m always here for you, Eddie. Promise.”

The peace and quiet between them doesn’t last long. Eddie is so focused on the hug, he almost misses the sound of footsteps moving around on the first floor. His heart stops.

“Eddie bear!” Sonia calls from downstairs. He can hear her moving towards the stairs, and Eddie pulls away from Bev’s embrace. Bev is about to ask what’s wrong, but Eddie presses a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. He points to the floor just as Sonia calls for him again. Bev’s eyes look like they’re bugging out of her head when she realizes Eddie’s mother is coming upstairs.

“Oh shit,” she hisses. She tries to move as quickly and quietly around Eddie’s room as she can, but her plan fails when she trips over a pair of Eddie’s jeans lying on the floor. She falls with a thud right in front of the window leading out to Eddie’s backyard. Eddie swears and runs over to help Bev up.

“Eddie?” Sonia shouts frantically. Her heavy footsteps are moving faster up the stairs, and Eddie feels like he’s about to throw up.

“I’m fine!” he replies loudly. Bev is starting her climb through the window. “Just slipped!”

“Well we need to check that you didn’t break anything!”

Eddie is frozen in terror, staring at his bedroom door. This can’t be happening. Fucking shit, this can’t be happening.

“Eddie!” Bev whisper-yells. Eddie snaps his head to the window and sees the upper half of Bev’s body still in view. Eddie runs over to her to check that she can get out safely and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the ladder still leaning against the house. He helps her manage to get over to the ladder and watches her quickly scramble down until she’s finally on the ground. She looks up at him and gives him a thumbs up. Then she mouths _call me_ and runs through the backyard, jumps over the fence into the neighbor’s yard, and is out of sight.

“What are you doing with the window open?” Eddie’s mother asks worriedly. He jumps and twists around to look at his mother standing in the now open doorway.

“I—I was just—” he manages to stutter out. “It got hot.”

“You’re going to end up with pneumonia, honey! Close it!” Eddie obeys and locks the window closed, feeling his mother’s eyes sticking to the back of his head like glue. “Good. Now, what did you hurt when you fell?”

“What?” Oh wait. Bev’s fall. “Mom, I just slipped. I probably won’t even get a bruise.”

“We still have to check in case we need to take you to the doctor.”

“Seriously? I don’t need to go to—wait, where are you going?” He watches in horror as Sonia walks through his room and into his bathroom. “Mom, wait!”

“I need to get the First-Aid kit, Eddie bear. Why are you acting so—”

Eddie feels like all of his organs are about to explode. But all he can do is stand there and wait. Sonia is out of the bathroom a few seconds later, slowly walking towards Eddie with the pregnancy test in her hand. Her face is unreadable.

“Whose test is this?” Sonia asks in a low, threatening voice. Sonia seldom ever gets angry at Eddie. But when she does, the sense of dread and fear is quick to overtake him.

“I—” he begins to say.

“I _knew_ there was someone else here. Is that why the window was actually open? You’ve been sneaking a girl in and out of my house?” Eddie is still trying to stutter out a good explanation for the test being here, but Sonia interrupts him once more. “Does this test belong to that Marsh girl?” she asks bitterly. “I bet it does. I knew she was bad news, but you didn’t want to listen to me. That entire group of friends of yours was always a bad influence on you, especially that girl and Richie Tozier.” Eddie clenches his hands into fists, feels them start to shake. His fear is starting to quickly dissipate and be replaced with anger. “Does she even know who the father is?”

Eddie finally feels himself finding his voice, and he shouts, “She’s not pregnant!”

Sonia scoffs.

“This test says she is.”

Eddie pales. There’s two pink lines, clear as day and unmistakable. A positive result.

_Oh fucking shit._

He’s—

Jesus Christ, he’s actually—

“Don’t tell me you’re the father,” Sonia pleads. She looks almost as panicked as Eddie feels. “You really got that slut pregnant? I can’t believe you! How could you do this to me? To our family? Why her? Why—”

“She’s not a slut, so don’t fucking call her that!”

“Eddie!”

“And it’s not even her test, Mom! It’s mine!”

Sonia stops talking. She stares at Eddie, not even trying to utter a word. Eddie wishes he could take it back, but the damage has been done. She knows. 

Sonia opens and closes her mouth several times before letting the positive test fall to the floor. Her eyes harden up, and her hands are starting to shake. Eddie backs up a couple of precautionary steps.

“It’s _what?”_ Sonia says through gritted teeth. Eddie swallows down his Adam’s apple and rolls his shoulders back.

“You—you heard me. The test is mine. Not Bev’s.” Eddie takes a deep breath. “I’m the one that’s pregnant.”

Sonia is quiet once more. She blinks at Eddie, then down at the test, then back up again. Eddie feels like he’s going to throw up, and he can’t tell if it’s from the anticipation or the fact that the little thing of life growing inside of him has decided it hates apples now too. He doesn’t move or speak, though. His mother finally walks towards him after standing in shock for an ungodly amount of time. Eddie’s waiting for her to start screaming and crying, but she stays silent.

She rests a hand on his bicep, not phased by the way he flinches.

“I’ll call the principal and tell him you won’t be at school tomorrow,” Sonia says in this overly kind and sweet voice that would have soothed a younger, more naive Eddie.

This time, though, it makes him pause.

“Why won’t I be at school tomorrow?” he asks slowly, cautiously. Sonia gives him a sympathetic look.

“Oh honey, I know this is all really overwhelming. And I know you’re scared. We have a lot we need to talk about, but the first thing we need to do is solve this problem as quickly as possible. Then we can really sit down and talk.”

Eddie’s blood turns cold. Every alarm bell is going off in his head, and his hand instinctively comes up to cup his stomach.

“Wait, you want me to have an abortion?”

“Eddie bear, it’s for your own good. Just let me handle this. Everything will be okay and back to normal in no time.”

“Wait—” Eddie trails off and shakes his mother’s hand off of his arm. He slowly backs away from her and towards the door. “Wait, you can’t just—first, you lie to me about being a carrier. That’s not even all you’ve lied about when it comes to my health, but that’s another can of worms altogether. Now, because of the shitty choices you made about my health, you think you can just tell me what I can do with my body? You—you can’t just make this go away!” His voice rises in volume the angrier he gets. “You can’t just up and decide that I’m allowed to have a baby or not! That’s not your choice!”

“I am your mother, and I know what’s best for you,” Sonia says. She sounds calm, but Eddie sees the rage flare in her eyes. Eddie laughs bitterly.

“You think you know what’s best for me? You have a really fucked up way of showing it! How could you hide something so important from me? What, did you just think I’d never find out? That I’d never learn I’m actually capable of carrying a baby? What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“Well, I never thought my son would end up being gay, so I didn’t think I had to worry about you going around and getting knocked up!” Sonia shouts back. Her resolve is cracking and falling away, and Eddie should probably be scared or nervous. He just shakes his head in disgust.

“That’s not my fault! You’re the one that lied to me!”

“It _is_ your fault for being gay and not even using protection! What if you had caught AIDS, huh? Then what?”

Eddie’s fists start to shake.

“Take the fucking blame for once in your life!” he shouts. “If you had told me the truth to begin with, I would’ve been better prepared! You’re the one at fault here!”

“Edward Kaspbrak!”

“No! I’m done with your mind control bullshit! You could’ve avoided this whole problem by telling me the fucking truth! I could’ve gone on the pill, and none of this would’ve happened! But you didn’t do any of that! And yeah, it was stupid to not use a condom, but Richie and I were each other’s firsts, and I trust him! I’ve always trusted him!”

_“Richie Tozier is the father?!”_

Sonia sounds even more enraged by that knowledge than by the fact that her only son is pregnant. Eddie knows his mother has always had a bone to pick with Richie—honestly, most people in Derry have had a fucking bone to pick with Richie about something since fucking middle school—but he should have known that the hatred Sonia holds for Richie would run deeper than most.

Well shit. Any last little sliver of hope Eddie had of keeping everything calm and rational in this situation just went out the window.

“You’re never going to see him again,” Sonia all but growls. “And as soon as we get rid of that thing, I’m going to make sure you never go back to Derry High School.”

“You can’t do that!” Eddie exclaims, panicked. “I have one more semester of school left!”

“Oh, yes I can, and I will! I’m still your mother, and you will respect that! I know what’s best!”

“Yeah, you sure know what’s fucking best! Not telling me I’m a carrier was a fucking awesome idea! Making me take all this bullshit medicine was an even better one! Now look at me! I’m a hypochondriac knocked up with someone’s baby out of wedlock, and it’s because you couldn’t be bothered to tell me some actually important stuff about my health! You fed me all these lies instead just so you could have someone to control!”

“That is not true!”

“I’m right and you know it! But guess what? I’m not going to let you control me anymore! I’m going to graduate high school in June! I’m going to move to New York! I’m going to have this baby with Richie, and you’ll never see it if I can help it! And there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it!”

The crack of a backhanded slap into Eddie’s cheek echoes through the bedroom. Eddie gasps feels his body spin a little off-balance from the force, but his feet find themselves again before he can fall. He looks back at his mother with wide eyes, too shocked to speak. His mother has always been manipulative with the way she would guilt trip Eddie into blindly following her like she was his God. There’s never been a time where she wasn’t controlling, and she could sometimes be verbally abusive when she got angry enough.

But she’s never hit Eddie. Not once.

“We’re going to Portland in the morning,” Sonia says, “and we’re going to get rid of this problem before it gets any bigger.”

Eddie stares at Sonia, his entire body numb but his mind running a million miles a minute. One thought keeps repeating in his mind, though.

“You’ll get rid of this baby over my dead fucking body. Because I’m keeping it, and I don’t want it to be around someone that goes around slapping and abusing and manipulating their own child. I refuse to let it go through what I’ve had to go through.”

Eddie shoves past his mother and grabs his overnight bag. He swiftly opens his drawers and starts shoving clothes in by the handful. He doesn’t listen when he hears Sonia begging Eddie to forgive her.

“Sweetie, I didn’t mean to hit you. That wasn’t like me. You know that.”

He slams all of his drawers shut and briskly walks over to his closet. He pulls out a few pairs of pants and some shirts and carries them over to stuff them in his bag. It’s getting filled to the brim now, and Eddie knows he can’t really pack anything else in it.

“Let’s just sit down and talk about this.”

Eddie makes sure all of his school books and everything are in his backpack before getting his father’s dog tags off of his nightstand and draping them around his neck.

“Eddie bear, please don’t leave me. You’re the only family I have left.”

Sonia grabs Eddie’s bicep, and Eddie jerks his arm away like he’s been burned.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps. He stumbles a little but regains his balance and stomps through his bedroom door and down the stairs. Sonia is following him down the stairs and relentlessly tries to take his bags from his hands. She’s begging him to stop and think about what he’s doing, but he could fucking care less. He could fucking care less what she thinks. He finds the key to his dad’s old Camaro—the one Eddie’s mother had said would be his one day when he was really young (he wonders if she was lying about that, too)—hanging up next to the front door with all the other keys belonging to Eddie and Sonia. That key has been teasing him, begging him to say _fuck it_ and go and get the fuck out of this house.

Eddie’s basically thrown his entire future to the wind and burned down every bridge between him and his mother. Might as well make it worthwhile.

He takes the car key and swings the front door open.

“Edward Kaspbrak, if you get in that car, I swear I’ll—” Sonia starts to shout from the doorway, but Eddie spins around and interrupts her.

“You’ll what?” he spits. “What are you gonna do? There’s nothing you could possibly do or say that could make me stay in this goddamn house for another fucking second. I’m done. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Sonia’s eyes turn soft and desperate, like they always do when she’s trying to smooth out an argument between her and her only son and rope him back into her manipulative ways. Eddie can’t believe he fell for it time and time and time again, thinking she really loved him and was just doing what was best for him.

But he knows better now.

“Eddie bear,” Sonia pleads, “think about what you’re doing. You’re breaking my heart, honey. I’m the only family you have left. And family is supposed to come first, remember? What about me? What about our family?”

Eddie’s been contemplating the meaning of family since he was twelve years old. When he was growing up, his mother was his only family. He doesn’t remember his father at all since he died when Eddie was still a toddler. Eddie can’t recall the last time he ever saw any of his grandparents. And forget knowing anything about his aunts and uncles and cousins. He doesn’t know if he even has any.

It’s always been just him and his mother for as long as he can remember. As he started getting older and seeing his mother’s true colors, he started to wonder if he really had any kind of family at all. What kind of family hurts and manipulates the ones that they love until their victims are twisted around and bent out of shape and told that the only thing they need is family to solve all of their problems? That all they need to get better and feel better is the very people that hurt them in the first place?

But when Eddie looks at Bill and Stan and Mike and Ben and Bev, he sees a group of people that actually care about him and always try to help him through all of his home life bullshit. They’ve always been there for him, always wanting to make him laugh after his mother does something to make him upset or angry. They let him hide in their respective homes when things get too much at his own house. They’re incredible people that still love him, despite how much of a fucking whack job he knows he can be sometimes.

And then there’s Richie. Richard fucking Tozier. Eddie’s best friend since they were in first grade, who has become the only person who has managed to tear down every single one of Eddie’s carefully constructed walls, brick by brick. Day by day. Every day since they were little kids. His best friend, his soulmate, the love of his life.

He looks at Richie and sees a family he never thought he would get to have. He sees forever with Richie. It’s such an overly romantic thing to think and Eddie’s probably getting a little ahead of himself here. But there’s no one else on this fucking planet that he would gladly spend the rest of his life with.

“I have a family,” Eddie says to his mother. “I have a family that actually loves me for me and wants me to be happy. You and I—we were a family. But we haven’t been one for a long time. I don’t know if we could ever be one again.” It kills a piece of Eddie’s soul to say that, because that’s his mom he’s saying all of this to. She birthed him and raised him, after all. She’s his flesh and blood. But she made her bed, and now she has to lie in it. Eddie can’t afford to take her place and suffer for the mistakes she’s made. He can’t be her little puppet anymore.

He has Richie and his future to think about. He has a baby to think about now too. It’s not just about him anymore.

Eddie turns around, drowns out his mother’s pleas for him to come back, her threats to disown him if he doesn’t come back inside, her promises that he can never see her again. He puts his bags in the back of the old, red Camaro and gets in. The car sputters and coughs a little when he turns the ignition from the lack of usage over the past few months, and for a terrifying moment, he thinks it won’t run. But then he’s cranking it one more time, and it finally starts up. He breathes a heavy sigh of relief and presses down on the pedal as hard as he can, tearing out of the driveway without looking back.

He desperately needs gas in the car, the brakes need to be replaced, and the speakers are garbage. But it runs. And it gets him out of his driveway, out of his neighborhood, and away from his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:
> 
> \- Discussion of forced abortion between Sonia and Eddie.
> 
> \- There is a moment where Eddie is slapped across the face by Sonia during their argument.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for all your feedback and comments! They've meant so much, and they've given me plenty of motivation to keep writing this story while I'm stuck in partial quarantine. I hope y'all are all staying safe and healthy in these crazy times!
> 
> No new warnings as far as I can see, but if you feel like I missed something, please let me know!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always much appreciated!

Richie lives ten minutes away from Eddie, and his house is one of the biggest ones standing tall and proud in Derry. It’s a beautiful, two-story house with a big front yard. It’s a house Eddie has been in countless times, sometimes unannounced after he needed an escape from his overbearing mother. Other times, he would show up in the middle of the night when he just desperately needed to see Richie. This place is warm and familiar.

He feels like he’s going to vomit.

His cheek is starting to throb in pain from where Sonia slapped him—he thinks belatedly that one of her gaudy rings might’ve snagged his cheek and broken the skin—and all the adrenaline and fight is out of him. He just wants to sleep for the rest of his life because of how stressed his entire body feels.

Above all else, though, he needs Richie to just hold him and tell him everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to work out, and he’s going to be here for Eddie and the baby.

Jesus. Eddie’s having a baby. He and Richie are going to have a mini version of them coming into the world in less than nine months. It’s only just now starting to hit him, and now his once calmed nerves are almost through the roof again.

The one time he and Richie decide to go without a condom, and this is what he gets. Fate is a fucking bitch.

Eddie can see Maggie Tozier’s silhouette walking through the dining room, getting dinner set up for her husband and son. Eddie doesn’t really know much about her except that she’s a good mom whenever she’s around. Eddie never asked Richie to elaborate whenever his mom would suddenly disappear for either a few weeks or a few months at a time when they were growing up. He knows it’s a bit of a sore topic for Richie to talk about, and he doesn’t push. Richie isn’t good about sharing this kind of stuff when he’s forced to.

Maggie would go away for a little while and then come back like nothing ever happened. She hasn’t gone away like that since Richie and Eddie were thirteen, and it’s nice to see that the Tozier family is happy. Despite all the times Maggie Tozier would disappear, she’s always as great of a mom as any of the other great moms. Richie’s never had a bad word to say about her.

Wentworth Tozier is pretty cool, too, from what Eddie knows about him. He’s never given Eddie shit for his fear of germs or any of his other issues, and he’s always been quietly staying in Eddie’s corner whenever Sonia would really act out. Eddie distinctly remembers a time from when he was thirteen where Wentworth was working on his car in the driveway and saw Eddie sneak into the house through Richie’s bedroom window after Eddie had a massive fight with his mom. He won’t forget how Wentworth had just looked at him with a quirked brow and said, “Just come through the front door next time.”

Eddie has only come through the front door a handful of times since that day. He wants to sneak through Richie’s bedroom window right now so he can avoid Richie’s parents, but he can’t. What if he falls and hurts himself or the baby? For the first time in his life, he’s actually worried about getting hurt doing something he’s been doing since he was a child.

He calms his breathing down before turning off the car and getting out. Derry hasn’t had its first snowfall yet, but it’ll be coming soon enough. The temperatures are low, and Eddie is shivering after just a few seconds outside of the car. He doesn’t take any of his stuff with him just in case he gets turned away. He wishes he could say that he wouldn’t, but he really doesn’t know Richie’s parents at all. Mrs. Tozier isn’t around much for Eddie to really get to know her, but Richie has never actually said she was a bad or a cruel mom. And Mr. Tozier was nice the one time, but those were different circumstances.

He gulps and softly knocks on the door.

Eddie waits for ten agonizing seconds—he counts off the loud ticks coming from his watch—before the door finally opens. Wentworth is standing on the other side, his brows knitted together in confusion when he looks down at Eddie. He’s a little taller than Richie, who is easily a head taller than Eddie now, so Mr. Tozier definitely towers over Eddie’s short, thin stature.

“Eddie,” he says in surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming over for din—” Wentworth doesn’t finish what he was saying. His warm, brown eyes turn dark and stormy when he squints at Eddie’s face. “What the hell happened to your face?”

Eddie hasn’t seen his reflection since he walked out of the bathroom and waited on the pregnancy test results with Bev. The mark on his face must be worse than he thought.

“I—” Eddie tries to say, but his voice dies in his throat. He suddenly feels nauseous and anxious and upset all at once. Like everything is closing in all around him. He tries to feel around his jacket pocket for his inhaler and quietly curses to himself when he realizes that he left it at his house. He stares up at Wentworth, and nothing can even try to come out of his mouth except the truth. “My mom—she and I—”

“Get inside,” Wentworth tells him, not letting Eddie finish what he was saying, and Eddie quickly obeys. Wentworth closes the door, and Eddie immediately feels better when he gets inside. It’s so warm in the Tozier home, and it smells like home-cooked meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Eddie swallows back the bile creeping up his throat.

“Honey,” Maggie calls from the dining room, “who is it?” Neither Eddie nor Wentworth have time to reply before she’s stepping inside the foyer wearing an apron and wiping her hands with a dish towel. She’s confused until she sees Eddie’s face too. She gasps and steps right into Eddie’s space, gently cupping his face in her hands. He flinches a little, but he doesn’t back away from Maggie. It almost feels like Richie is the one holding him. It’s comforting, in a way. He doesn’t think about all the germs she might be carrying on her hands. She’s being kind and trying to make sure he’s okay. She’s on his side.

For now, at least.

“What happened?” Maggie demands. “Who did this to you?” Eddie still can’t talk, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels Maggie’s thumbs gently wipe away something wet trickling down his cheekbone. Maggie looks at her husband and says, “Can you get me the First-Aid Kit?”

Wentworth doesn’t say anything. He just nods and walks upstairs to retrieve the First-Aid Kit Eddie knows is kept in Richie’s parents’ shared bathroom. Eddie has had to use it numerous times on Richie whenever Richie would try to fight Henry Bowers when they were younger. He wishes this whole situation could be fixed with some peroxide and a Band-Aid.

“Dad?” Eddie hears Richie’s distant voice say from the second floor of the house. “Who’s downstairs?” Eddie can hear Wentworth murmur something low and incomprehensible to Richie before more footsteps are heard. A slow pair walking down the hall to one of the bedrooms. Another other pair simultaneously rushing down the hall, down the stairs, and through the first floor into the foyer.

And then Richie is there, looking frazzled and worried. He’s wearing his glasses, and they magnify the sad glints swimming through them when he locks eyes with Eddie. Richie’s eyes look comically wide, and Eddie would laugh if he wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack.

“What happened?” Richie asks. He tries to step closer, but Maggie puts a hand out to stop him.

“Your father is getting the First-Aid Kit,” she explains. “We don’t know exactly what happened, but it’s going to be okay.”

But that’s just it, Eddie thinks to himself. It most likely won’t be okay when Eddie has to explain why he got slapped across the face, why he left home. The sudden reminder that now his mother knows—not just about the baby but about his and Richie’s relationship—races through Eddie’s mind so fast, he can’t stop it. And soon, more words of his mouth in a rush.

“It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve told you. I swear—”

“Whoa, slow down, Eds,” Richie softly tells him. Not  _ baby _ or  _ sweetheart _ like Eddie’s so used to hearing. Of course not. Because they’re in Richie’s home with Richie’s mom standing right there. And Eddie just came so close to outing them both to her. And he’s definitely outed them to his own mother, who is probably plotting a way to get Eddie to come back home and basically live under house arrest for the rest of his miserable life. He doesn’t think about how she’ll make Richie’s life a living hell as well.

And she’ll still want to get rid of the baby. She’s going to try and take the baby away from him and Richie. He knows she will. She was ready to do it without his consent, even before the Richie being his baby daddy bombshell and the blowout fight they had in his bedroom.

He doesn’t hear what Richie asks him next. He doesn’t know what Maggie is asking Richie to do, but in the next moment, he can feel Richie’s arms carefully picking him up and carrying him bridal style into the living room and sitting him down on the couch.

“Breathe, Eddie,” Richie softly whispers to him. Eddie is shaking and his head is spinning. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe. But he’s trying, and Richie is right there to help him through it.

Richie’s helped Eddie through numerous anxiety attacks over the years, breathing with him and telling him he’s doing great, even though Eddie knows it’s a fucking lie. But he’s thankful for Richie doing his best to help him. He’s always been thankful.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie sobs out when his breathing gets a little more under control. “I’m so fucking sorry, Richie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Eddie, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, you don’t get it. I fucked up, Richie. I really fucked up.”

Richie looks over Eddie’s face. He must see that Eddie isn’t fucking around because he turns to his mom and asks, “Can Eddie and I talk for a minute? Alone?”

Wentworth is coming into the living room right as he says that. Richie quietly thanks his dad for the First-Aid Kit before taking it and turning his full attention back to Eddie.

“We’ll set the table for four,” Eddie hears Maggie softly say before she walks out of the living room and back into the kitchen. Another moment passes before Wentworth’s footsteps are following his wife. Once the footsteps have faded, Richie exhales deep and slow and starts getting out alcohol wipes to clean up Eddie’s face.

“How bad does it look?” Eddie asks. He hisses when the chemicals from the cloth touch the cut and make it sting.

“Not too bad,” Richie replies, still focused on thoroughly cleaning his cut.

“You don’t have to do this. I can finish cleaning it myself.” Richie levels him with a look.

“Let me take care of you for once in your fucking stubborn life.” Eddie wants to roll his eyes and say he’s not stubborn, but they both know that’s a lie. Instead, he stays put and lets Richie put a large Band-Aid over the cut and clean everything up before coming back to sit with him.

Richie holds Eddie’s face in his hands, careful not to mess up Eddie’s bandage.

“What the fuck happened?” Richie finally whispers. “You haven’t been acting normal, and I’m worried about you. I didn’t wanna say anything because I didn’t want to make you go down some research spiral binge and call a bunch of doctors like you did last time you had the flu—”

“But I did end up having the flu that time, asshole,” Eddie deadpans. “So it was all for a good reason.”

“But I gotta know, Eds. What the fuck is going on? You haven’t talked to me for the past couple days, and it’s kind of freaking me out. And then you show up with blood on your face and freaking out worse than usual?”

Eddie hadn’t even realized that he’d been avoiding Richie this whole time. His stomach drops and he thinks his breathing is getting out of control again because Richie is whispering for him to focus on him. When Eddie is calm again, Richie is giving him the saddest smile he’s ever seen.

“Baby, I’m not mad,” Richie whispers. “I’m fucking worried about you. What’s going on?”

Eddie sniffles and hangs his head. He wants to tell Richie the truth, but the words keep getting caught in his throat. He takes a shuddering breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I—Richie, I’m pregnant.”

Richie doesn’t move or immediately respond, and it’s got Eddie feeling nervous. He dares himself to look up at Richie’s face and finds it unreadable for once. Normally, Richie is the most open of books—to Eddie, at least—but it looks like Richie’s face is trying to decide on which emotion to land on.

Wide-eyed shock beats them all out, in the end.

“You’re—” Richie starts to say before trailing off. He starts and stops three more times before sinking back into the large sofa, gently taking Eddie with him and keeping their bodies cuddled close together. 

“Holy fucking shit” is what Richie finally ends up saying a couple minutes later. He’s not pushing Eddie away or yelling, so Eddie guesses that’s a good sign. Maybe.

“I didn’t know I was even a carrier until this morning,” Eddie murmurs. Richie tugs him close so they’re cuddling on the couch, and Eddie feels relaxed for the first time in days. He feels good enough to finally tell Richie everything that’s been going on for the past couple of days: from Bev figuring out that he might be pregnant before anyone else all the way down to the fight he had with his mom that caused him to finally leave home.

When he’s done, Richie looks angry and sad, but Eddie can somehow tell that it’s not directed at him. Not entirely. Eddie’s never seen him look so serious in his entire life. Richie shakes his head, probably still trying to process everything that’s happened over the past two days.

“You could’ve told me,” he finally whispers. He looks a little hurt, and Eddie wants so badly to apologize. But Richie is still talking. “Shit, Eddie, I would’ve gotten you a test. I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve made sure your mom didn’t get the chance to  _ lay a fucking hand on you. _ I would’ve fought your mom myself if I had the chance. I still want to fucking fight her.”

Hearing how fiercely protective and angry Richie sounds is enough to ease the doubts in Eddie’s mind he didn’t even know he had. Because, really, his biggest fear through all of this has been the idea of Richie wanting nothing to do with him after finding out Eddie was pregnant.

They haven’t talked about kids. They’ve been so focused on their plan to go to New York together that they haven’t really put much thought into their future past college. Eddie knows Richie has never had an issue with kids. For some odd fucking reason, babies love Richie. Richie doesn’t mind them, either; he’s actually really great with them, like that kid he helped calm down when she skinned her knee at the park during the carnival this past summer.

He was so sweet to her and kept talking to her and asking her if she was okay. He kept telling her she was so brave and tough and distracted her from how much her poor knee ached. Eddie had cleaned off her knee after running to the drugstore to buy some Band-Aids and Neosporin and had been an eye witness to one of the softest sides of Richie he’s ever seen.

But that doesn’t mean Richie’s ready for a kid of his own. Hell, he and Eddie are just kids themselves. How would they even raise one?

“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers. “I wanted to tell you sooner. I just—I got scared. I don’t want—” Eddie sniffles and wipes his nose with the edge of his sleeve. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Richie’s face crumples. He brings Eddie close and holds him tight, his large hands keeping him in place and not letting go. Eddie starts to silently cry again, fresh tears soaking through Richie’s Nirvana t-shirt.

“You’re not gonna lose me, baby,” Richie says. His voice is strong and unwavering, even with all the fear and pressure that’s definitely about to come his way. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, I’m gonna be here for you.” Richie swallows and shifts his eyes to Eddie’s stomach. “For both of you. If you still wanna keep it. And if you don’t, I’m still gonna be here. I’m not leaving you just because things are hard right now. I love you, Eddie. You’re it for me.”

At that, Eddie slumps in Richie’s arms and lets out a pained noise before hiding his face in Richie’s shirt once more.

“Hey guys?” Maggie softly calls from the kitchen entryway a few minutes later. “I know this is probably a bad time, but I wanted to let you know dinner’s ready, if you two are still hungry.”

Eddie knows he should push himself off of Richie and act like everything is at least somewhat fine, but his body is disobeying and refusing to let go of Richie. It doesn’t help that Richie isn’t letting go of him, either. Richie turns his head to most likely look at his mother. Eddie wouldn’t know; he’s still refusing to lift his head from Richie’s shoulder.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” he tells her. A moment later, Maggie walks back into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Richie alone in the living room again.

“What am I gonna tell your parents?” Eddie asks after finding his voice. “They’re gonna ask me what happened between me and Mom, and I can’t just tell them I’m having a baby and that’s the reason my mother kicked me out. Because then they’re gonna ask who the father is, and I don’t want to out you to them, because I know you’re not ready. And I’m—”

“Eddie, slow down.” Eddie lifts up his head and stares at Richie’s face with tired eyes. Richie pushes back Eddie’s curls from his forehead and wipes away a stray tear rolling down his cheek. His hands are trembling as they do, and Eddie wishes he could somehow make this better. Richie has voiced in the past how badly his parents could possibly react, and Eddie doesn’t want to force him to come out and eventually admit to knocking Eddie up.

But then Richie’s face is going from nervous to determined, back to nervous, back to determined, finally settling somewhere in between.

“Rich, what are you thinking about?” Eddie asks.

“I—I think I wanna tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

“The truth. About you and me.”

Eddie isn’t sure what his face contorts into, but it gets the message across because Richie is blinking and slowly shaking his head.

“Look, I know it’s crazy,” Richie continues before Eddie can get a word in, “but I—I want to. I need to. I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“What if they get angry and reject you?” Eddie argues. “What if they try to separate us? Or take the baby away?”

“Then we’ll run. We’re both going to New York, anyway, so why not speed things up a little?”

“We don’t have any money. We haven’t graduated. Neither of us has turned eighteen yet. And you still haven’t gotten your letter from NYU.”

“Even if I don’t get in, I can still get a job. And I have some cash to start us out. It’s not much, and it would be hard, but we could make it work.”

“With a  _ baby? _ Richie—”

“We don’t have to make a plan right this second. We have time. Just trust me when I say that no matter what happens, our plan is going to involve both of us and this baby as a family. I’m not gonna let anyone take either of you away from me.”

Eddie sighs. He knows that, but they need a solid plan and a backup plan and a backup plan for the backup plan. Why doesn’t Richie see that? Why doesn’t he understand?

“We need to eat something first,” Richie says before Eddie can try to say anything else on the matter. “I’m fucking starving, and you’re eating for two.”

Hearing Richie sound so calm about the baby is probably the most surprising thing about this entire fucking lunatic situation they’re in. It calms Eddie, though.

“All I’ve been able to hold down is apples and Oreos, remember?” Eddie groans.

“I’ve got Oreos upstairs if you can’t hold down dinner. You can at least fake it at the table. I know you’re good at that. You did it all the time when we were in elementary school.”

“Look, that lunch food was fucking horrifying.”

Richie laughs out loud at that, and Eddie cracks a grin in return. His heart doesn’t feel as heavy watching Richie snort-laugh on the couch with him. Richie stands up and holds out his hand for Eddie to take.

“Let’s see if you can hold down meatloaf and mashed potatoes.” Eddie rolls his eyes and takes Richie’s hand. As soon as he’s on his feet, Richie pulls him into a hug, holding him close. Eddie inhales the scent of Richie’s laundry detergent mixed with sweat and his faded cologne and feels like he can breathe normal again.

“I love you, Richie,” Eddie whispers. Richie squeezes him a little tighter and kisses the top of his head.

“Love you, too, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“I take that back. I can’t fucking stand you.”

“You liked me well enough when I was putting my dick in you a couple weeks ago,” Richie whispers in his ear. Eddie’s face is red hot, but he tries to play it cool by rolling his eyes and lightly elbowing Richie’s stomach.

“I want to punch you right now,” he hisses back.

“Ooh, yeah, punish me, baby. I’ve been a very,  _ very _ bad boy.” Thank fucking Christ Richie’s parents are in the other room or this would be really fucking awkward. Eddie shoves a cackling Richie away.

“Beep fucking _ beep,  _ Rich.” He storms into the kitchen, Richie hot on his tail and laughing that loud, boisterous laugh that always makes Eddie involuntarily crack a smile.

Dinner is surprisingly quiet except for small talk about school and work at Wentworth’s dentistry practice. The entire time, Eddie is waiting for Maggie or Wentworth to bring up what happened with his mom, but all they ask is if his cheek is still hurting and nod their approval when he says no. Richie looks relieved, but Eddie’s nerves are still frayed and the lack of invasive questions is making him anxious.

“You can stay for as long as you need,” Wentworth says to Eddie when dinner is finally over.

“What if my mom comes over?” Eddie asks. Wentworth makes a face.

“We’ll figure it out. I’m going to do what I can to make sure you don’t have to go back. Maggie and I both will. And if you want to talk about what happened, we’re here to listen. No pressure.”

Eddie tells Richie about the slightly strange encounter when he gets upstairs to Richie’s room, and Richie hums from where he’s propped up against the headboard of his bed and reading one of his comic books.

“Yeah, he’s good about not prying,” he explains. Eddie doesn’t know how to feel about that. He’s so used to his mother asking him all these weird, invasive questions about everything. He just thought it was a normal thing for parents to do to their kids. Looks like he was sorely mistaken.

“I’m just worried about Mom coming to take me back,” Eddie sighs as he sits on the edge of Richie’s bed.

“Dad won’t let that happen. And Mom won’t, either.”

“She’s been obsessed with me being under her control for as long as I can remember. Like she’s going to give up that kind of power.”

Sonia will come around at some point to get him back, probably sooner rather than later. But if she makes him come back home, Eddie will just run away again. He’ll run every time if it means having his freedom, his sanity, his baby, and Richie.

Richie wordlessly moves down the bed until he’s sitting next to Eddie. He tilts Eddie’s face towards his own with two of his fingers under Eddie’s chin. Richie’s eyes are fierce like they were earlier. He looks unstoppable, like he could take on the whole world for Eddie and somehow win.

“I won’t let her take either of you away from me,” he whispers. “No matter what happens, I’m not going to lose you. And you won’t lose me.”

He gives Eddie this crooked half-smile before bringing him in for a gentle kiss. Eddie feels his heart skip so many beats. He still can’t believe that after all this time, he still reacts like this whenever Richie kisses him. He feels cherished, safe, untouchable.

“Do you think we should tell the Losers soon?” Richie whispers when they pull away. “Or do you think we should wait?”

Eddie freezes.

“Fuck, I have to call Bev,” he suddenly says and crawls over to Richie’s landline phone sitting on his nightstand. “I told her I’d call when I found out the test results.” Richie sits himself behind Eddie and wraps his arms protectively around Eddie’s stomach, hooks his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie dials Bev’s house number that he memorized years ago when she moved in with her aunt. The phone only rings twice before someone answers the phone.

“Eddie? Is that you?” Bev’s voice crackles anxiously over the line.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Eddie replies. He hears Bev breathe a deep sigh of relief.

“Jesus, I was about to drive to your house and see if you were still alive.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been bad. I’m not there right now, and my mother is probably thinking about going on a murder spree.” A pause. “I left home.”

Bev curses quietly.

“So I guess the test came back positive?” she says, voice much quieter this time. Eddie swallows and nods before remembering that she can’t see him.

“Yeah. I’m pregnant.”

“Holy fucking shit. So where are you now? Are you okay?”

“I’m at Richie’s.”

“Hey Bev,” Richie mumbles loud enough that Bev can surely hear him.

“Hey Rich,” she says back.

“Bev says hi,” Eddie tells Richie. Richie grins against Eddie’s t-shirt and leans up to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Does he know?” Bev asks.

“Yeah, he knows. He--he actually seems pretty excited.”

“Good. Because if he had reacted badly, I would’ve kicked his ass myself.” Eddie laughs.

“Well, you’re good, Bev. Richie and I are fine.”

“So are you keeping it?” Eddie pauses.

“I think so. We’re still trying to figure out how to tell his parents. After that? Who knows, honestly.”

“Holy shit, that’s huge. Good luck.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need a lot of luck.”

“We can talk more tomorrow. And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others yet. I’ll let you two do that when you’re ready.”

“You’re the best. You know that, right?”

“Duh. You idiots would all die without me.”

“Yeah, probably,” Eddie admits with a laugh. Bev laughs, too, and then says a moment later:

“I’ve gotta go. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Bev.”

“Of course.”

When Eddie hangs up the phone, he feels even better than he thought he would. Knowing that he still has Bev’s support—and hopefully all the other Losers’ support after he and Richie tell them the news—is such a fucking relief. Richie hugs him close and hums against his neck.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “You’ve got a lot of people around you who love you and wanna support you.”

Eddie holds Richie’s arms with his hands and presses back against him, letting Richie snuggle him close.

“They’re here to support you, too, Rich,” Eddie finally says. “I might be the one carrying the baby, but you’re still the baby daddy.”

“Oh so I’ve been demoted to baby daddy now? Wow, I see how it is.” Eddie cackles. “I’m hurt. I thought I meant more to you than that, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie wheezes out, still laughing at Richie. “Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Never.”

They start lightly shoving at each other before collapsing back on the mattress in fits of cackles. Eddie swears he could listen to Richie laugh all the time and never get tired of it. He leans in to kiss him when the doorbell rings loudly through the house. Richie and Eddie look at the block numbers on Richie’s alarm clock and see that it’s past eight. It’s a Thursday, so there’s really no reason for anyone to be coming to the Tozier house this late.

“What the fuck?” Richie murmurs to himself. He sits up and goes to see who’s at the front door, Eddie following closely behind him. They can hear the big front door open, and Richie’s mom starts to ask whoever’s at the door why they’re here.

Richie slowly opens his bedroom door right as an all too familiar voice angrily demands, “Where is Eddie?”

The blood drains from Eddie’s face. He holds on to Richie’s shirt as tight as he can and tries to pull him back into the bedroom, but Richie isn’t budging.

“Sonia,” Wentworth is heard saying, “I understand that you’re upset, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see him.”

“Oh shut it, Tozier,” Sonia snaps. “He’s my son, and I’m taking him home. Worry about your own son for once.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Maggie argues. “Richie’s a good kid.”

“How would you know, Maggie? You’re always away in rehab! Like you would actually know what’s going on in your own kid’s life!”

Richie stiffens against Eddie. His grip on the door frame is turning his knuckles white, and Eddie can see how angry he is by the clench in his jaw. He twists his fist tighter into Richie’s shirt, keeping him firmly in place.

“I  _ do _ know what’s going on in my son’s life,” Maggie finally says.

“Do you? So you know that your son knocked up my Eddie?”

Fucking shit.  _ Fuck. _ This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be able to tell Richie’s parents on their own. Eddie feels like he’s going to vomit.

“Excuse me?” Wentworth chimes in after a long, deafening silence.

“That’s right! Eddie is pregnant with Richie’s baby! They’ve been sleeping together, and now my Eddie is pregnant! That was some great parenting on your part, letting your son run around and poison my baby’s reputation and future!”

The entire house is quiet once more for several long, painful moments. Richie and Eddie don’t move even a muscle, too afraid to bring any attention to themselves. The next noise that comes out sounds like a deep sigh coming from Wentworth. Eddie holds his breath.

“So what are you planning on doing about this whole situation, Sonia?” Wentworth asks, his voice surprisingly level and cool. “Send Eddie away to some home for unwed teens and then bring him back like nothing ever happened? And what about the baby? Our grandchild?”

“I already have a plan,” Sonia says firmly.

“If your plan involves forcing Eddie to give the baby up for adoption against his will or to make him have an abortion, then I’ll make sure he doesn’t have to go back to you,” Maggie snaps. “I’m not about to let you hurt him or Richie or that baby. Getting rid of the baby won’t make any of this go away, Sonia.”

“He doesn’t need to be having a child! It’s better to get rid of that thing now! I’m doing what’s best for my son!”

“Are you? Or are you scared that you’re going to lose control of him? He doesn’t need you anymore. He’s got us and Richie to help him if he wants to keep the baby.”

“I will have you two arrested for kidnapping a minor.”

“Go ahead,” Wentworth threatens. “Call the damn cops. But make sure you tell them about how you hit your own son and how you’re planning on forcing him to have an abortion that he might not even want. Let’s see how quickly Child Protective Services will come knocking on your door to take Eddie away from you. Because that’s exactly what will happen, Sonia. You’ve put that poor boy through enough. For years, I’ve watched him climb through the windows of my house to get away from you for just a few hours. I’ve heard him ask Richie what he did to deserve feeling like he’s never good enough for you. He’s been hurting this whole time, and you could care less.”

“I’ve done my best to make sure he’s healthy and safe!” Sonia snaps. “I love my son!”

“What you’ve done to him isn’t love!”

Richie and Eddie jump at the sound of Wentworth raising his voice. He’s always been a quiet, reserved man, but the gloves are off tonight. He’s clearly pissed, and he’s not afraid to show it.

“He’s afraid of you!” Wentworth continues. “He came to my front door shivering and upset with a cut on his face that I know came from you! What kind of mother hurts her own child? We’re not letting you come near him again if we can help it! You can call everyone you can think of to get Eddie back, but no one will let him go back home with you! They’ll put him in foster care before they even think about letting you get him back!”

Eddie buries his face between Richie’s shoulder blades and takes a shuddering breath. He can feel Richie’s rapid heartbeat hammering through his whole body, can hear his shallow breaths. Eddie slowly pulls him back into the bedroom and closes the door.

There’s still some yelling going on downstairs between the three adults, but Eddie is trying to drown it out by turning on the boombox by Richie’s bed and playing some random mixtape Richie made. He thinks it’s Queen playing, but he’s not so sure. He’s not really focused on that right now.

The only thing he really wants to listen to right now is Richie’s heartbeat against his ear and maybe one of Richie’s stupid fucking jokes. Nothing is funny right now, but it will be again. Maybe one day, they can look back at this whole fucked up situation and laugh about it. Come out of everything on top.

For now, though, Eddie lies halfway on top of Richie in Richie’s bed—something they’ve done hundreds of times over the years—and he doesn’t say anything about the tears falling into his hair. He doesn’t even stop his own tears from falling onto Richie’s t-shirt.

They don’t speak. They don’t move. They just wait for the yelling to stop.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I greatly apologize for the delay. It's been a bit of a wild couple of weeks with sporadic work schedules getting moved around (I'm an essential worker), major storms knocking out my power and causing damage all over my state, migraines, and a lot of other issues going on.
> 
> I hate that this chapter isn't really developing the plot all that much, but I hope y'all enjoy it, anyway! Your wonderful comments have been great to read during these past couple of weeks, and I'm so happy you guys have been enjoying this story so far! I promise the next chapter will move things a little further along plot wise!
> 
> No detailed warnings as far as I know, but if you guys spot anything, please don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> Thank you again for all the love, and I hope y'all enjoy!

Fifteen minutes go by, and there’s threats about getting the police involved, about calling lawyers and social workers. Eddie isn’t sure what Wentworth and Maggie say to finally get Sonia out of their house. But whatever is said, it makes Sonia go quiet.

“I hope you’re happy, Eddie!” Sonia suddenly shouts through the house. “I hope you’re proud of what you’ve done! Our family is ruined because of you!”

The heavy front door is slammed so hard, the walls shake a little. Eddie flinches at the noise and buries his face in Richie’s chest, eyes shut tight. Richie curls himself protectively around Eddie, even going so far as throwing a lanky leg over Eddie’s own shorter, slightly thicker ones so that they’re touching everywhere. For once, Eddie is thankful for Richie’s obsession with cuddling. It can be overwhelming a lot of the time when they’re lying in bed and Richie wraps his entire body around Eddie’s. But right now, Eddie needs it. This is what he’s been craving all day, all _week._ He just needs Richie to be there for him.

“You ok, Eds?” Richie whispers. Eddie doesn’t have the energy to snap at Richie for calling him that stupid fucking nickname. He just takes a deep inhale of Richie’s scent.

“I don’t know,” Eddie answers honestly. He wants to say he’s ok because he’s finally away from his mother. But he just—he feels guilty. Ashamed. A part of him is screaming at him to go downstairs and make peace with his mother and go home with her. That’s his _mother,_ for Christ’s sake.

He doesn’t move.

Richie holds him tighter.

There’s some hushed whispers and soft footsteps coming up the steps and down the hall, getting louder as they approach Richie’s room. Eddie doesn’t lift his head when the door to the bedroom slowly creaks open and the soft voice of Maggie Tozier asks a moment later, “Are you guys ok?”

Eddie listens to Richie’s heartbeat speed up and the shaky breath leave him before replying with “Yeah, we’re ok.” They’re really not, especially not Eddie, but Eddie appreciates the way Richie is just trying to keep his parents from asking too many questions. Maggie sighs.

“She’s not coming back here,” she promises. “And if she does, we’ll get CPS involved.”

“We know you’re both scared,” Wentworth chimes in, his voice back to its normally calm volume, “but Maggie and I will handle this. You two have enough on your plate with finals and finishing the rest of the school year.” A pause. “And you both have a baby on the way on top of all that. But we’ll talk about all of that later. You guys need to get some rest. I would say that since we now know you two are together, we would want you to sleep in different rooms. But—” Wentworth trails off with a small chuckle. “I guess it would be a useless rule at this point.”

“How are you both acting so calm about this?” Richie asks. His voice sounds hoarse and it cracks in the middle of talking. “Why aren’t you guys, like—I don’t know, screaming at me? Why aren’t you mad?”

Eddie hesitantly lifts up his head to look at Wentworth and Maggie. They’re looking at the two teenagers still lying with each other on the bed, and they look—sad? Maybe? They both step a little further into the bedroom, still keeping a safe distance from Eddie and Richie.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” Maggie insists. “We’re not mad at either of you. This whole situation is—it’s a lot. And screaming and fighting isn’t going to help anything. Your father and I agreed that we would all talk about this altogether, as a family.” She turns her attention to Eddie. “That includes you, Eddie. You’re a part of this family, too.”

Eddie’s eyes sting. He’s cried more in the past few days than he has in the past year. He really thought he was done crying, but he has a feeling he’s only just begun this stage of constantly crying at everything. Richie’s thumb starts to gently wipe his tears away from his cheeks.

“You two get some sleep,” Wentworth says, still standing in the doorway. Maggie finally comes to the bed and kisses the top of Richie’s wild curls and leans over to do the same to Eddie. She hesitates, waits for Eddie to let her know it’s ok to touch him. He sniffles and nods his head before feeling the gentle press of Maggie’s lips press against his temple. Despite what Eddie’s mother and what anyone else in town might have to say about her, Maggie Tozier is a great mom. She’s not perfect by any means, but at least she fucking cares.

“Come get us if either of you need anything,” Maggie says.

“Will do,” Richie replies. Maggie gives her son a gentle smile.

“Love you both.”

Wentworth gives the boys each a close-mouthed but encouraging grin and tells them _good night_ before following Maggie out of the bedroom. He quietly closes the door behind him, leaving the two teenagers alone once more.

Eddie slowly sits up and stares down at his hands that are resting on his stomach. It’s still flat right now, but there’s a human being growing in there. A person that’s going to have Richie’s eyes and maybe Eddie’s smile. Maybe they’ll end up with Richie’s dark curls too?

Tears fall from his eyes and onto his hands, but he doesn’t stop them.

“We’re really having a baby,” he whispers. He smiles wetly and sniffles. The bed shifts around and ultimately stops when Eddie feels a warm, familiar body press up against his back. Richie’s long arms drape themselves around Eddie’s smaller frame and hug him close.

“Are you scared?” Richie asks quietly.

“A little.”

“Only a little?”

“I mean, I thought I would be more scared than I am. But I--I don’t know, Rich. My emotions are all over the fucking place, but I know two things for sure.”

“What are they?”

“One: I really want to have this baby. I know it’ll be hard, but I really fucking want this. I just feel really—protective, I guess? Like, if someone tries to take my baby away from me, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

“Ok, at least I’m not the only one thinking like that.” Eddie gives him a curious glance.

“What do you mean?” he asks. Richie sheepishly looks away.

“I mean—I, uh—I’d probably do something really fucking stupid if someone tried to hurt you or our baby.” Eddie tries to ignore the way his heart races when he hears Richie say _our baby._ “Maybe get arrested or something like that. I just know that I’d fucking rip apart anyone that tried to hurt either of you.” Eddie swallows and feels his eyes sting.

“Really?” Richie looks at Eddie again with soft, honest eyes.

“Fuck yeah,” he promises. “I’d do anything to protect you both.” Richie leans forward and kisses Eddie’s forehead. “What’s the second thing you’re sure about?”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

“That I love you and can’t wait to see you change a fucking diaper.”

Richie barks out that loud cackle that Eddie will never get tired of. It eases some of the nerves still resting in the bottom of his stomach, and he starts laughing alongside Richie.

“Hey, I don’t mind doing diaper duty,” Richie says once they calm down some. “I’d change all the diapers if you asked me to. And I’d make all the bottles, do all the feedings, clean all the clothes and the puke. Anything you ask, I’ll do it for you.” Richie brings Eddie’s head to the side with two of his fingers underneath his chin. He looks so earnest and honest, and it makes Eddie’s body feel warm. “Because I love you, too, Eddie.”

Eddie quickly presses their lips together before he can start crying again or say something stupid. Richie cups Eddie’s cheeks with his hands, his long fingers burying themselves into Eddie’s short, dark hair. They kiss like that for a while until they finally fall back onto the mattress, still kissing and holding each other like their lives depend on it.

When Eddie pulls away, it’s because he has to yawn and brush some of Richie’s messy hair off of Richie’s cheeks and forehead.

“I keep getting your fucking hair in my mouth,” Eddie grumbles. Richie laughs.

“Would this be a bad time to tell you that I haven’t washed my hair in two days?”

Eddie shrieks and scrambles off the bed and into the bathroom to wash his hands and find the mouthwash.

“Richie! That’s fucking gross! Do you realize how many germs you might have in your hair? You’re always putting your dirty hands in it!”

“Relax, Eds, I was kidding,” Richie says from the doorway of the bathroom. Eddie glares at his boyfriend’s reflection in the mirror.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” Richie steps up behind Eddie and wraps Eddie up in a hug. “But that’s why you love me. I keep you on your toes with my asshole ways.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says, but there’s no bite to it. He giggles when he feels Richie’s lips lightly brush against his neck and cheek, and then his breath hitches when Richie’s hands move down his torso to rest on his stomach.

“I love you,” Richie whispers. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Eddie and Richie make eye contact with each other in the mirror, stupidly grinning at one another and not looking away.

“I love you, too, Richie.”

Eddie wakes up to the smell of bacon cooking downstairs and the sound of Richie’s soft snores next to his ear. He doesn’t know what’s going on or what time it is; all he knows is that he fell asleep in Richie’s bed last night, and—

Oh yeah. The test results. The fight. Running away. Telling Richie. Eddie’s mother outing him and Richie to Richie’s parents.

He looks at the time on the clock. **6:22 am.** He and Richie need to start getting ready for school so they won’t be late. As soon as the thought enters his mind, Eddie wants to laugh at himself. How can he be worried about school when he should probably be more worried about the fact that his mother disowned him because he and Richie are having a fucking _baby?_

He’s already getting a headache. Fucking fantastic.

He carefully twists around in Richie’s arms so that they’re facing each other. They used to fall asleep next to each other all the time when they would have sleepovers as kids. They never meant to always have their sleeping bags next to each other; it just kind of happened that way. It was always Richie, Eddie, Bill, and then Stan; all lined up in front of the projector screen in Bill’s basement. But that was a different time in their lives. It didn’t mean anything back then. Not really.

Then they got a little older, and everything started changing. Eddie remembers being as young as eleven and trying to figure out these big, bold feelings he had whenever he would look at or talk about Richie. For so long, he had told himself it was just because he was annoyed with how crazy and loud Richie was (and still is), even though he never actually wanted Richie to stop being obnoxious.

And then Richie had kissed him at the Kissing Bridge that summer after freshman year.

It was the middle of the night, and no one else was around. Eddie had snuck out of the house when he heard some rocks being lightly thrown at his window and realized the culprit was Richie. Stupid Richie with his big, brace-faced grin, thick glasses, stupid Hawaiian shirt, and a six-pack of Coors Light in his hand. Eddie couldn’t have said no to the invitation if he had tried.

They rode on their bikes down to the bridge and drank and talked and bickered like they always did, never running out of things to say. One second, Eddie was ranting about how fucking gross the beer was _(“Seriously, Rich, where the fuck did you get this beer from? It’s fucking nasty”);_ and the next, Richie was kissing him. Eddie never saw it coming.

He remembers being so fucking pissed at Richie for doing that and telling him to never do it again. That devastated expression on Richie’s face still haunts Eddie to this day. He never wanted to hurt Richie; he just wanted him to see why this was a very, very bad idea. But the words came out more volatile than Eddie had intended, and Richie had run off before Eddie could tell him he was sorry.

They didn’t speak for three weeks after the incident. It was the longest they had ever gone without talking or interacting. Sure, they’d argued and fought in the past, but those had been petty, meaningless fights that they got over the next day.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to realize that he wasn’t actually mad at Richie for the kiss. Not really. He was scared. He was so fucking scared at the realization that he _liked it_ when Richie kissed him. That first kiss was quick and Richie’s lips were chapped and tasted like beer, and it was more on the corner of Eddie’s mouth than his actual lips, but it just left Eddie wanting more. And it scared him.

It was Bill that finally confronted him and told him that he needed to get his shit together and fix whatever happened between him and Richie. _“He m-m-misses you,”_ Bill had said. He was trying to look angry, but he just looked like a kicked puppy instead. _“Fix this, Eddie. He’s d-d-driving everyone crazy. Stan is ready to kill him, and s-so is Beverly.”_

Eddie still hasn’t gotten to properly thank Bill for kicking his ass into gear. If he hadn’t, Eddie has no idea if he and Richie would have ever spoken to each other again.

At the time, he had hoped that maybe Richie would just come up and talk to him again and act like the kiss never happened. That they could maybe laugh about it in the distant future and say that they were just a couple of drunk kids that got a little wild one night.

But the kiss did happen, and neither of them were able to let go of what it meant—of what it could mean.

Eddie had been prepared for Richie to basically tell him to fuck off and never speak to him again when he finally went to Richie’s house to apologize. He was ready to put up a fight if it meant saving their friendship. But as soon as Richie saw Eddie for the first time in weeks, he had tearfully apologized and said that he could forget about the kiss just so he could have Eddie back.

 _“You’re my best friend,”_ Richie pleaded. Eddie can still hear how desperate Richie sounded that day. He remembers how swollen and bloodshot Richie’s eyes looked and how obvious it was that he hadn’t taken a shower in days. He had been a fucking wreck. _“I don’t want my stupid mistake fucking up our whole friendship.”_

 _“Do you really think kissing me was a mistake?”_ Eddie asked. Watching Richie beg for forgiveness and try to salvage their friendship felt like a swift kick to the gut. He knows now, years later, that that moment of guilt was him coming to terms with the fact that he didn’t want the kiss to be written off as some idiotic lapse in judgment. That he didn’t want Richie to be sorry for kissing him.

Richie looked at Eddie, all confused and doe-eyed, before letting his face crumple again.

 _“Don’t make me say it,”_ he begged.

_“Just tell me the truth. Please.”_

_“You’ll just hate me.”_

_“I won’t.”_ Eddie paused. _“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Rich.”_

_“But--”_

_“Just answer the fucking question, asshole. Do you think kissing me was a mistake?”_

Richie had been quiet for so long, it scared Eddie. He really thought he had it right. He thought he knew exactly what Richie wanted. What if he got this all wrong? What if it really was just a stupid, drunken mishap?

Richie looked him in the eyes. He looked so—so _open._ So vulnerable.

 _“No,”_ he whispered. He sounded devastated. _“It wasn’t a mistake. I—fuck. I’m in love with you, Eddie. I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Like, since we were little kids. I just didn’t realize it was love until a little while ago.”_

The moment right after Richie’s confession is still one of Eddie’s bravest yet dumbest moments of his existence to date. Even standing up to his mother doesn’t compare to the stupidity of surging forward and kissing Richie, right there in the foyer of Richie’s house. Wentworth was in his study upstairs while Maggie was out shopping. They easily could’ve gotten caught that day.

 _“I don’t think the kiss was a mistake, either,”_ Eddie confessed against Richie’s lips. He felt like flying when Richie reeled him back in for another kiss.

They knew that being together was going to be really fucking hard. They would have to lie to everyone they knew, including their friends. They would probably never come out and tell anyone the truth. But it would all be worth it if it meant they were finally together.

“Whatcha starin’ at me for, Eds?” Richie slurs.

Eddie snaps out of his train of thought to look at Richie. He’s all rumpled with sleep and his curls are _everywhere._ His eyes are barely open, but Eddie can see how content he looks—like he could just laze around in bed all day with Eddie in his arms and not be bothered.

Eddie would love that more than anything right now. He just wants to burrow himself in Richie’s warmth and let himself be held until he falls asleep again.

“Because I love you,” Eddie finally says. The slow spread of Richie’s smile across his face cures Eddie of his headache almost immediately. He snuggles in a little closer and lets Richie wrap him up in his arms under their mound of blankets. He could really get used to waking up with Richie every morning.

“Boys!” Maggie calls from downstairs a few minutes later. “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes!”

So much for getting to hide away from everyone for a little while.

“Do we have to go down there?” Eddie whispers pitifully. Richie quietly laughs into Eddie’s hair.

“She makes really fucking awesome eggs,” he tries to reason. “You can eat eggs, right? Like, they won’t hurt the baby? Or you? You like eggs. I know you like eggs.” Eddie grins against Richie’s chest.

“Yeah, I can eat eggs, Rich. And no, they won’t hurt the baby. I’m just hoping I can hold them down.”

They both get up a couple minutes later and put on some clothes. Eddie silently curses himself when he realizes that he left his clothes and other belongings in his dad’s car overnight. He throws on his jeans from the night before and one of Richie’s shirts lying around on the floor. He really wants to take a shower, but he can just do it when he gets done with breakfast.

He can’t believe he’s actually ok with not taking a shower. Pregnancy is really fucking with him.

Eddie grabs the dog tags sitting on the nightstand, puts them on around his neck, and walks out of the bedroom with Richie. As they descend down the stairs, Richie brushes his fingers against Eddie’s before finally taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. When they get to the bottom of the stairs, Richie leans in and gives him a reassuring peck to his lips. Eddie’s heart starts to skip for a different reason—a better, more familiar one.

He starts to feel the panic rise again, though, when they walk into the kitchen and Richie still hasn’t let go of his hand. Before he can protest, Maggie is turning from the stove to the teenagers with a kind smile.

“Morning, you two,” she greets them. She glances at their joined hands, but her expression doesn’t change. “Richie, can you help me set the table?”

“Yeah, sure,” Richie replies and finally lets go of Eddie’s hand to grab the plates out of the cabinet. Eddie stands awkwardly in the kitchen, glancing around and trying to find something to do.

“Oh, Eddie, honey, you can sit at the table if you want,” Maggie assures him.

“You don’t need me to do anything?”

“Nope. Just take a seat and we’ll bring the food to you.”

Eddie’s eyes and nose burn, but he keeps his composure. He can’t remember the last time anyone cooked breakfast for him.

He sits at the table like Maggie suggests, taking the same seat he was in the night before, and watches as Richie and Maggie work around each other to get breakfast finished and collect the dishes to set the table up. Richie is setting up the table when he leans over into Eddie’s space and gives him a gentle kiss to the side of his head.

Eddie blushes but doesn’t complain since Maggie isn’t looking.

“Your cheek still feeling ok?” Maggie asks. It takes Eddie a moment to realize she’s talking to him. He swallows and nods, not really trusting himself to speak. “You’ll need to change the Band-Aid out sometime today and make sure you put some more Neosporin on it.”

Eddie nods again and stares at his hands resting in his lap.

“Good morning, everyone.”

Eddie whips his head to the doorway to the kitchen from the living room to see Wentworth walking in, already dressed in his button-down shirt and slacks and his glasses resting neatly on the bridge of his nose. He beams when he sees his wife and son scooping the scrambled eggs into a large bowl. He casually slings an arm around Maggie’s shoulders and kisses her temple.

“Need me to help?” he asks.

“Richie and I got it,” Maggie tells him and gives him a kiss on the lips before carrying the plate of thick-sliced bacon to the table. There’s also a plate of Eggo waffles, a container of syrup, and three different containers of jelly sitting on the table with the eggs that Richie has brought over. Eddie sits to Richie’s left while Wentworth and Maggie sit side by side on the other side of the rectangular dining table.

Everyone piles up their plates—Eddie just sticks with eggs for now in case he gets sick—and they quietly eat for a few minutes. Wentworth clears his throat at one point, catching the attention of the other three sitting at the table. He sits up a little straighter.

“I already called the principal this morning and told him that you guys wouldn’t be at school today,” he announces. “I didn’t go into details about what happened, but I told him you guys would be back at school on Monday to take your exams.”

Eddie can feel his eggs starting to travel up his throat. Richie takes his hand and squeezes.

“Why aren’t we going to school?” Richie demands. He sounds defensive.

Eddie should’ve known that Richie’s parents wouldn’t be ok with them having a baby. He can’t believe he fell for all of their nice and encouraging words. Where the hell is he going to go after this? What’s he going to do?

“We figured you two needed a long weekend to take a break,” Maggie says. “And with your finals starting next week, you guys really need the rest. Especially you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s mind screeches to a halt.

“You’re not gonna—” Eddie swallows, suddenly feeling embarrassed by his thought process. “So you guys didn’t do this because you were gonna make me have—” The thought alone makes him sick, but to say it out loud would just make him spiral.

Wentworth and Maggie look shocked.

“Sweetie, we would _never_ make you have an abortion,” Maggie assures him.

“We meant what we said when we told you that we wanted to be here for you,” Wentworth adds. “We just figured you needed an extra day off after everything that happened yesterday.”

Eddie stares at his eggs, too embarrassed to look up at Richie’s parents. They were just trying to do something nice for him, and his mind immediately started accusing them of trying to make him get rid of the baby.

He really needs to fucking relax, but the tears are already starting up again. Richie presses his shoulder against Eddie’s and kisses his temple. If this was before the night before when all hell had broken loose, Eddie would be shoving Richie away and trying to play off Richie’s affection as him being too friendly. He would be telling Wentworth and Maggie that Richie’s just being Richie. But Richie’s parents are looking at them, and neither of them look angry or disgusted or even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“We know you’re both probably overwhelmed by everything going on,” Maggie says, “but we’ll need to talk all of this out and figure out what to do next. But we can do all of that when your exams are finished. There’s a lot that goes into having a baby.”

It doesn’t take a genius to know that having a kid is actually a really big fucking deal. There’s a lot to buy, a lot to prepare for, a shitload of doctors’ appointments, clothes to buy, furniture to build and set up, making sure you have the right car, and the list goes on and on.

There’s so much to do, and Eddie doesn’t know where to start.

“I have plenty of friends who are doctors and can get a good recommendation for a good OB for you,” Wentworth tells Eddie. “Because I have a feeling you’re not wanting to go see a doctor here in Derry.”

Eddie wonders if they’ve been coming up with different scenarios for this whole situation since they found out the news. Calling friends for help? Making sure Eddie doesn’t have to see someone in Derry if he doesn’t want to?

“I—” Eddie starts to say before falling short. He tries again, though. “I don't really know how to thank you guys. Like—seriously, you don’t have to do all of this for me.”

“You’re right,” Maggie says with a small smile. “But we want to help you. You shouldn’t have to go through any of this alone.”

Eddie wipes away another stray tear and then another. Richie hands him a paper towel, and Eddie takes it while murmuring out a “ _thanks, Rich.”_ He wipes at his eyes, trying to keep the tears a little bit at bay.

“Be honest with me, Mrs. T,” he sniffles. “Did you cry a lot when you were pregnant?”

“Fortunately for me, no,” Maggie laughs happily. “But I did eat a lot of pickles and ice cream and I didn’t sleep well through the last half of my pregnancy. A lot of my friends were very emotional and hormonal, though, so it’s definitely normal to cry a lot and feel off-balance.”

“So that explains why I love pickles so much,” Richie murmurs to himself. Eddie makes a face.

“You can have your pickles,” he says. “I hate pickles. No amount of cravings could ever make me want to eat those evil things.”

That gets everyone at the table laughing, and the air around the room doesn’t feel as tense as it did. It’s still weird and crazy right now, but Eddie knows he, Richie, and the baby will be fine. It won’t be easy, but he’s going to try his hardest for their family.

Wentworth has to go to work as soon as breakfast is done, though he promises to be home before dinner. Maggie and Richie help Eddie unload his car and get his clothes hung up or folded up in Richie’s room. As soon as he’s done, Eddie goes to take a much needed shower. A couple hours of being awake without it was enough.

He gently takes off the Band-Aid before he showers and looks at the mark in the mirror. The cut itself doesn’t look that bad, but the bruising around it is gnarly. Eddie has always bruised easily, and it clearly shows with how his cheek looks like an ugly mishmosh of red and purple.

He gets a new Band-Aid and puts on when he’s done with his shower, just like Maggie suggested he should do. He would’ve done it, anyway, just so he could avoid looking at the reminder of what his mother thinks of him.

After everything has been put away, Maggie asks if Eddie has any more stuff, and Eddie shakes his head in reply. He doesn’t have really much of anything outside of clothes and school stuff. He just grabbed what he could after the fight and ran. When he tells Maggie that, she gives him a sad look and opens her arms for a hug. Eddie now understands where Richie learned to be such a good hugger.

“Why don’t you make a list of everything you need, and I can go pick up everything while I’m out?” she gently suggests.

“I can pay you back—” Eddie starts to say, but Maggie shushes him.

“Nope. We’ve got it. You just try to relax and make yourself at home.”

Eddie sits at the kitchen table and tries to make his list as short as possible, but Richie keeps taking the pen adding things to it that he knows Eddie wants but won’t put on the list himself. Eddie smacks his hand away several times before sighing.

“Just let me make my fucking list the way I want, asshole,” Eddie snaps, but it comes out more as a whine. Richie leans over and examines the list.

“You forgot to add condoms,” he says with the most serious face that even Eddie looking at him all scandalized doesn’t make him crack. “And lube. Can’t forget the lube.”

Eddie’s eye twitches as he smacks Richie’s shoulder with the small notepad. Richie cackles.

“Beep beep, Richie, Jesus!”

“But we need them!” Richie argues while still laughing.

“I’m not adding condoms or lube to the fucking list!”

“Oh c’mon, it would be funny if you did.”

“Condoms wouldn’t even do us any good now, asshole! I’m already pregnant!”

Richie stops laughing, but his smile doesn’t go away.

“I still can’t believe we’re having a fucking kid,” he says, his voice sounding far off but happy. It makes Eddie smile back.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “I can’t fucking believe it, either.” Richie brings Eddie in for a hug, pulling him halfway onto his lap. “Rich, your mom is about to get back in here to get the list.”

“Speaking of: you forgot to add apples and Benadryl.” Eddie looks down at the list and realizes Richie’s right.

“Shit, thanks, babe,” he mumbles and scribbles down the two items. Eddie makes a face at the list so far and hesitantly crosses out the specific toothpaste brand he likes. He can just use Richie’s, even though it tastes weird. Maybe he should just forget about some of the other stuff on the list, too—

“Hey. Mom and Dad don’t care if you have a super long list. You know that, right?”

“I don’t want to—” Eddie sighs and puts the pen down. “What if they think I’m taking advantage of them?”

“Eddie, they meant it when they said you were a part of the family. They want you to be happy here.”

“I _am_ happy. I don’t need a lot of stuff.”

“There’s stuff I know you need that isn’t on that list. I promise Mom won’t get mad, and neither will Dad. They love you, Eds.”

Eddie instinctively rolls his eyes at the nickname and sighs. He looks back at Richie.

“You promise they won’t get mad?” he asks quietly.

“Swear it. And if for some reason they do, I’ll just say it’s my stuff.”

“Richie—”

“Make the list, Eduardo.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and gently shoves at Richie’s shoulder before going back to the list. He only has ten items on there so far, and there’s like, eight more things off the top of his head that he really needs. Is it overkill to ask for all this stuff? It’s really just little things that he could ask for later. And they’re not _necessities._

“All right, guys, I’m about to head out,” Maggie announces as she barrels through the kitchen to grab her water bottle and her keys. Eddie starts scribbling down the last of the things he knows he needs and decides that maybe he can ask for more stuff later if he really desperately needs it. “Eddie, honey, do you have the list?”

“Yeah, here you go, Mrs. T,” Eddie says as he holds out the list for her. She skims through the list, and his heart races. He thinks she’s going to tell him that he’s being unreasonable and that she’s going to tell him to take a bunch of things off the list, but she just nods before folding up the list and sticking it in her coat pocket.

“They say there’s supposed to be snow coming in later today, so be sure to check the thermostat and keep yourselves warm. And don’t worry, the fridge has plenty of food in case you’re both just absolutely starving.” Maggie turns to Richie. “Don’t stay holed up in your room all day. Please.”

Richie sighs like he’s being inconvenienced.

“I promise.”

“Good.” Maggie gives Richie a kiss on top of his head and then copies the same gesture on Eddie before bidding them both goodbye and leaving the house. Richie locks the door behind his mom—something the Tozier’s don’t usually do but have just started doing in case “unwelcome guests,” as Wentworth put it, happen to show up—and turns back to Eddie with a shit-eating grin. Eddie narrows his eyes at his boyfriend.

“What are you planning?” he asks suspiciously. Richie wiggles his eyebrows and walks into the living room. Eddie walks in just in time to see Richie pulling open the movie case by the entertainment center. He starts searching through the dozens of VHS tapes before finding the few he wants and lays out _Pretty Woman, Jurassic Park,_ all three installments of _Lethal Weapon,_ and _Die Hard_ (the first one only because Richie and Eddie both agree the sequel blows) and then proceeds to line them all up on the coffee table.

All of their favorites.

Eddie grins at Richie.

“I fucking love you,” he says. Richie smiles back and briefly kisses Eddie before standing again.

“I’ll go make popcorn. You pick which one you wanna watch first.”

“Can you get the Oreos too?”

“Anything you want, baby.”

Eddie can’t stop grinning as he watches Richie walk back into the kitchen to make the popcorn. He grabs a bunch of blankets from the hall closet and spreads them out over the big couch. He picks out _Pretty Woman_ to watch first and pops it into the VHS player under the television. He wraps himself up in the biggest, softest, blanket and gets himself comfortable on the couch, letting the previews play so Richie won’t miss the beginning.

By the time Richie comes back into the living room with the snacks, there’s one preview left. Richie snorts when he sees Eddie’s makeshift nest of blankets on the couch.

“Did you leave any room for me?” Richie asks as he crawls onto the couch, careful to not disturb the layout Eddie has made. Eddie scowls but opens up his blanket for Richie to cuddle with him. Richie happily takes his spot pressed in close next to Eddie and gets a second blanket around them and their snacks for additional coziness. The lights are all off so only the glow of the television screen can be seen.

It feels like every other secret date night they’ve had for the past two and a half years: the nights where no one else is around and Richie’s parents decided to go out for a night in Portland and not come back until the early hours of the morning. Or the ones where all the other Losers are out on their own dates with other people or at house parties or even just out of town for something—somewhere that Richie and Eddie don’t need to be.

Eddie rests his head on Richie’s shoulder and takes a bite out of an Oreo. Richie holds onto the popcorn with one hand and wraps his arm around Eddie with the other, pulling him close until Eddie is almost completely in his lap. Eddie sighs quietly and relaxes against Richie. It’s the first time in days that he hasn’t felt like his entire world is about to come undone.

“This is nice,” he whispers just as the movie begins.

“Yeah,” Richie agrees. He sounds content. “Yeah it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome!


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